What was your fury then, ye crown'd array, Whose feast of spoil, whose plundering holiday Was thus broke up, in all its greedy mirth, By one bold chieftain's stamp on Gallic earth! Fierce was the cry, and fulminant the ban,"Assassinate, who will—enchain, who can, "The vile, the faithless, outlaw'd, low-born man!” "Faithless!"—and this from you-from you, for sooth, Ye pious Kings, pure paragons of truth, Whose honesty all knew, for all had tried; Whose true Swiss zeal had serv'd on every side; Whose fame for breaking faith so long was known, Well might ye claim the craft as all your own, Had peopled full your diplomatic shelves With ghosts of treaties, murder'd 'mong yourselves; Though each by turns was knave and dupe—what then? A Holy League would set all straight again; In some bless'd fountain made as good as new! * And now, with all her harpy wings outspread Pure Austria too-whose hist'ry nought repeats * Singulis annis in quodam Atticæ fonte lota virginitatem recuperâsse fingitur. At the Peace of Tilsit, where he abandoned his ally, Prussia, to France, and received a portion of her territory. The seizure of Finland from his relative of Sweden. Whose faith, as Prince, extinguish'd Venice shows, Whose faith, as man, a widow'd daughter knows! And thou, oh England-who, though once as shy As cloister'd maids, of shame or perfidy, Art now broke in, and, thanks to C —GH, In all that's worst and falsest lead'st the way! Such was the pure divan, whose pens and wits Th' escape from Elba frighten'd into fits;- In virtuous frenzy, to th' assassin's knife. most; - From whose affection men should shrink as loath As from their hate, for they'll be fleec'd by both; Who, ev'n while plund'ring, forge Religion's name To frank their spoil, and, without fear or shame, Call down the Holy Trinity* to bless Partition leagues, and deeds of devilishness! But hold enough-soon would this swell of rage Return we to those Lords of pray'r and prey, Whose loathsome cant, whose frauds by right divine Deserve a lash-oh! weightier far than mine! In the * The usual preamble of these flagitious compacts. same spirit, Catherine, after the dreadful massacre of Warsaw, ordered a solemn "thanksgiving to God in all the churches, for the blessings conferred upon the Poles;" and commanded that each of them should "swear fidelity and loyalty to her, and to shed in her defence the last drop of their blood, as they should answer for it to God, and his terrible judgment, kissing the holy word and cross of their Saviour!" Which I knew would go smash with me one of these days, And, at yesterday's dinner, when, full to the throttle, We lads had begun our dessert with a bottle Of neat old Constantia, on my leaning back Just to order another, by Jove I went crack!Or, as honest Toм said, in his nautical phrase, "D-n my eyes, Boв, in doubling the Cape you've miss'd stays." + So, of course, as no gentleman's seen out without them, They're now at the Schneider's‡—and, while he's about them, * An English tailor at Paris. † A ship is said to miss stays, when she does not obey the helm in tacking. The dandy term for a tailor. |