1826.
BANK.
Is all then forgotten? those amorous pranks
You and I in our youth, my dear Government, played;
When you called me the fondest, the truest of Banks,
And enjoyed the endearing _advances_ I made!
When left to ourselves, unmolested and free,
To do all that a dashing young couple should do,
A law against _paying_ was laid upon me,
But none against _owing_, dear helpmate, on you.
And is it then vanisht?--that "hour (as Othello
So happily calls it) of Love and _Direction_?"
And must we, like other fond doves, my dear fellow,
Grow good in our old age and cut the connection?
GOVERNMENT.
Even so, my beloved Mrs. Bank, it must be;
This paying in cash plays the devil with wooing:
We've both had our swing, but I plainly foresee
There must soon be a stop to our _bill_ing and cooing.
Propagation in reason--a small child or two--
Even Reverend Malthus himself is a friend to;
The issue of some folks is moderate and few--
But _ours_, my dear corporate Bank, there's no end to!
So--hard tho' it be on a pair, who've already
Disposed of so many pounds, shillings and pence;
And in spite of that pink of prosperity, Freddy,[1]
So lavish of cash and so sparing of sense--
The day is at hand, my Papyria[2] Venus,
When--high as we once used to carry our capers--
Those soft _billet-doux_ we're now passing between us,
Will serve but to keep Mrs.
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