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Reads, writes, and speaks with equal ease and grace
King or Kings’ minion’s cannot change his face.——
Here schroffs and sheriffs follow on the scent
From mongrel cur, to hound of high descent
Old gossips prate how one Alexis loved
How Ganymede a Corydon had proved.——
See Limerick Chronicle for purest blood
Of ketch providers downward from the flood,
Linked to the hectic hoydens that adorn
The ill stocked Hareems of our Golden Horn——
’Tis here they sell the whitewashed milk
In ample measure a lá Jilk
No cove can here the landlord bilk
Of Garryowen na gloria———
Here slopman Argrave lays down faultless law
Where gold must be, where nature made a flaw,
With “strata dipping upwards," and such like
With “quartz conglomerate,” and “downwards strike”
With “axis clinical” and “modern schist”
He petrifies the wide mouthed mob who list——
Midst combat seeking knights of present day,
Not dub him one?—he’d shine as well as they;
With beggar’s box as full as it can hold
He’ll give a tournament on “Clotte of Gold”——
On such ignoble heels to buckle spurs
Were jest at chivalry, a joust for curs,
Whose deadly vengeance, but to snarl and bite
Since Courts and cowards put an end to fight.—
Here Knights abound, our Baronet has gone
And one live Lord roams through the land alone,
An isolated instance o’er the main,
A genuine Peer, a peerless gentleman————
Commissioners throng of high and low degree
Of Courts, of Land, of Sandhills and Coogee,——
And last and least that gold bedizened Crew
All useless ciphers; pity ’tis ’tis true
As bare of brains as headless turkey cock
