Only think! to have Lords over running the nation,
As plenty as frogs in a Dutch inundation;
No shelter from Barons, from Earls no protection,
And tadpole young Lords too in every direction,--
Things created in haste just to make a Court list of,
Two legs and a coronet all they consist of!
The prospect's quite frightful, and what Sir George Rose
(My particular friend) says is perfectly true,
That, so dire the alternative, nobody knows,
'Twixt the Peers and the Pestilence, what he's to do;
And Sir George even doubts,--could he choose his disorder,--
'Twixt coffin and coronet, _which_ he would order.
This being the case, why, I thought, my dear Emma,
'Twere best to fight shy of so curst a dilemma;
And tho' I confess myself somewhat a villain,
To've left _idol mio_ without an _addio_,
Console your sweet heart, and a week hence from Milan
I'll send you--some news of Bellini's last trio.
N.B. Have just packt up my travelling set-out,
Things a tourist in Italy _can't_ go without--
Viz., a pair of _gants gras_, from old Houbigant's shop,
Good for hands that the air of Mont Cenis might chap.
Small presents for ladies,--and nothing so wheedles
The creatures abroad as your golden-eyed needles.
A neat pocket Horace by which folks are cozened
To think one knows Latin, when--one, perhaps, doesn't;
With some little book about heathen mythology,
Just large enough to refresh one's theology;
Nothing on earth being half such a bore as
Not knowing the difference 'twixt Virgins and Floras.
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