Page:To Bourkes Statue.djvu/13

 You phantom Hudson all devoid of skill “Proud science never taught your soul to stray” Farther than Camden and its milky way,— Black is the heart beneath that pallid skin, Malevolence wrinkles in a fiendish grin, False to your friend, a friend you’ll never have, Your life a lie—a lie will point your grave; Who would confide in you must hope in sin, For Satan hovers where your steps have been.— Of all that’s grovelling, dirty, low or bad You stand the vilest—what I say, I’ve said—— Lisp not your lies aloud, nor cock sure crow Lest horsewhip second, what my words avow Foul daub avaunt, false colour fling afar Nor devil blast you blacker than you are.—

Come creole Darewell, make your game I pray, Vote stakes too low!—we’ll dash at higher play— No Constitution monger buy your vote ’Twould spoil the speech that mem’ry got by rote Speak to the point and be not so verbose, To be too stiff’s as bad as too jocose Some merit in a way to you pertains,— ’Tis no great matter—you can count your grains— In Darewell’s chambers met a motley group With necks outstretched like geese enclosed in coop, Gasping to gobble up the words that fell (Like pearls ’mid swine) from astute Ante-Te,ll—— As in this wondrous land all works contraire The lazy loungers, that had mustered there, Startle; as eloquence from Bayley burst,— “We are hero to canonize our Charles the First Great Charles the Martyr to a golden pile Who suffered;—but from overflow of bile,— Who if he did no good did no great harm A bell all powerless to create alarm;— Where is the mob not even Fairfax here Nor yet his wife? no; “too much wit” I fear;— Each testimonial now the last outvies