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THE CANONIZATION OF SAINT BUTTERWORTH.
"A Christian of the best edition."--RABELAIS.
Canonize him!--yea, verily, we'll canonize him,
Tho' Cant is his hobby and meddling his bliss,
Tho' sages may pity and wits may despise him,
He'll ne'er make a bit the worse Saint for all this.
Descend, all ye Spirits, that ever yet spread
The dominion of Humbug o'er land and o'er sea,
Descend on our Butterworth's biblical head,
Thrice-Great, Bibliopolist, Saint, and M. P.
Come, shade of Joanna, come down from thy sphere.
And bring little Shiloh--if 'tisn't too far--
Such a sight will to Butterworth's bosom be dear,
_His_ conceptions and _thine_ being much on a par.
Nor blush, Saint Joanna, once more to behold
A world thou hast honored by cheating so many;
Thou'lt find still among us one Personage old,
Who also by tricks and the _Seals_[1] makes a penny.
Thou, too, of the Shakers, divine Mother Lee![2]
Thy smiles to beatified Butterworth deign;
Two "lights of the Gentiles" are thou, Anne, and he,
_One_ hallowing Fleet Street, and _t'other_ Toad Lane![3]
The heathen, we know, made their Gods out of wood,
And Saints may be framed of as handy materials;--
Old women and Butterworths make just as good
As any the Pope ever _bookt_ as Ethereals.
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