My skill as a linguist all must know
Who met me abroad some months ago;
(And heard me _abroad_ exceedingly,
In the moods and tenses of _parlez vous_)
When, as old Chambaud's shade stood mute,
I spoke such French to the Institute
As puzzled those learned Thebans much,
To know if 'twas Sanscrit or High Dutch,
And _might_ have past with the unobserving
As one of the unknown tongues of Irving.
As to my talent for ubiquity,
There's nothing like it in all antiquity.
Like Mungo (my peculiar care)
"I'm here, I'm dere, I'm ebery where."
If any one's wanted to take the chair
Upon any subject, any where,
Just look around, and--Puck is there!
When slaughter's at hand, your bird of prey
Is never known to be out of the way:
And wherever mischief's to be got,
There's Puck _instanter_, on the spot.
Only find me in negus and applause,
And I'm your man for _any_ cause.
If _wrong_ the cause, the more my delight;
But I don't object to it, even when _right_,
If I only can vex some old friend by't;
There's Durham, for instance;--to worry _him_
Fills up my cup of bliss to the brim!
(NOTE BY THE EDITOR.)
Those who are anxious to run a muck
Can't do better than join with Puck.
They'll find him _bon diable_--spite of his phiz--
And, in fact, his great ambition is,
While playing old Puck in first-rate style,
To be _thought_ Robin Good-fellow all the while.
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