Blue and Buff
Come, sportive Muse, with plume satiric,
Describe each lawless, bold empiric,
Who, with the Blue and Buffs' sad crew,
Now stripp'd in buff, shall look so blue.
First paint L---d H---w---k, boisterous, rough,
Dealer in wholesale quack'ry stuff,
Who, far beyond famed Katterfelt,
Prescribed what ne'er was seen or felt;
Left Law and Reason in the lurch,
To mould the Senate, twist the Church:
But wand'ring once from Downing street,
Great Buckingham's old dome to greet,
With grand Catholiconian pill,
Was lost--on Constitution-hill.
Next W---dh---m, metaphysic elf,
Who all things knows--except himself;
Three tedious hours who raves and talks
Of all that in his cranium stalks;
Whose regular ideas fear
Militia much, more Volunteer,
A wild inapplicable genius,
Scarce versed in policy's quæ genus;
In syntax yet more scantly read,
Without one concord in his head.
Now, Muse, direct the shaft of wit,
Where little P---tty apes great Pitt;
This year in woe-begone oration,
To Britons paints a bankrupt nation:
Resources all dilapidate,
Taxation at extremest fate;
Whilst next this little, great, small man,
Heigh! presto! pass! by one bold plan,
Restores you all to peace and plenty;
The deuce is in't! won't this content ye?
With necromantic rod of Moses
(A twig cut from a bush of roses),
To ease at once your ev'ry fear,
Turns bear to bull, and bull to bear.
Nor miss, dear Muse, to gild my tale,
The gallant E---rl of L---d---e,
Who late to Paris post was sent, to
Become the dupe of Benevento;
[...] Read more
poem by George Canning
Added by Poetry Lover
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