Southey and Butler nigh coming to blows,
To decide whether Dunstan, that strong-bodied Saint,
Ever truly and really pulled the De'il's nose;
Whether t'other Saint, Dominic, burnt the De'il's paw--
Whether Edwy intrigued with Elgiva's odd mother--
And many such points, from which Southey can draw
Conclusions most apt for our hating each other.
That 'tis very well known this devout Irish nation
Has now for some ages, gone happily on
Believing in two kinds of Substantiation,
One party in _Trans_ and the other in _Con_;[1]
That we, your petitioning _Cons_, have in right
Of the said monosyllable ravaged the lands
And embezzled the goods and annoyed, day and night,
Both the bodies and souls of the sticklers for _Trans_;--
That we trust to Peel, Eldon, and other such sages,
For keeping us still in the same state of mind;
Pretty much as the world used to be in those ages,
When still smaller syllables maddened mankind;--
When the words _ex_ and _per_[2] served as well to annoy
One's neighbors and friends with, as _con_ and _trans_ now;
And Christians, like Southey, who stickled for _oi_,
Cut the throats of all Christians who stickled for _ou_.[3]
That relying on England whose kindness already
So often has helpt us to play this game o'er,
We have got our red coats and our carabines ready,
And wait but the word to show sport as before.
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