Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/149

Sheer o'er my turnpike-gate he leaps,
And pays no toll,—no Sunday keeps,—
He 'll kill his horses soon,—'t is clear,
We strangely need a work-house here."—
—Then added soon, with smother'd ire,
"Perchance he comes to bring our Sire
Fuel to feed his wasted fire;
Should coals be rendered cheaper here,
And our long winters less severe,
We needs must wink at this career."—
So bade his satellites to keep
Close by his side like folded sheep,
For belted Jupiter had thrown
His gauntlet at the usurper down;—
"Ha!—Saturn! give the watch-word there,
And bid the intrusive spy beware,—
Call out your forces!—sure there 's need!—
Or stay,—I 'll come and take the lead;"
Then cap-a-pie stood forth to view
Like Bonaparte at Waterloo.—
—But blustering Mars his speech curtail'd
And Jupiter and Saturn hail'd—
"D' ye sleep,—while such bold traitors tramp
Straight o'er the bulwarks to the camp?—
The powers in office best should know
Why I am disregarded so,—
Without a man or horse to aid
'Gainst rude attack, or ambuscade,—
My martial spirit chafes to bear
Such cowardice, and laws unfair,
Things cannot long be thus deranged,
Our constitution must be changed;"