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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