"
It glads us much to be able to say,
That a meeting is fixt for some early day,
Of all such dowagers--_he_ or _she_--
(No matter the sex, so they dowagers be,)
Whose opinions concerning Church and State
From about the time of the Curfew date--
Stanch sticklers still for days bygone,
And admiring _them_ for their rust alone--
To whom if we would a leader give,
Worthy their tastes conservative,
We need but some mummy-statesman raise,
Who was pickled and potted in Ptolemy's days;
For _that's_ the man, if waked from his shelf,
To conserve and swaddle this world like himself.
Such, we're happy to state, are the old _he_-dames
Who've met in committee and given their names
(In good hieroglyphics), with kind intent
To pay some handsome compliment
To their sister author, the nameless he,
Who wrote, in the last new _Quarterly_,
That charming assault upon Popery;
An article justly prized by them
As a perfect antediluvian gem--
The work, as Sir Sampson Legend would say,
Of some "fellow the Flood couldn't wash away."[1]
The fund being raised, there remained but to see
What the dowager-author's gift was to be.
And here, I must say, the Sisters Blue
Showed delicate taste and judgment too.
For finding the poor man suffering greatly
From the awful stuff he has thrown up lately--
So much so indeed to the alarm of all,
As to bring on a fit of what doctors call
The Antipapistico-monomania
(I'm sorry with such a long word to detain ye),
They've acted the part of a kind physician,
By suiting their gift to the patient's condition;
And as soon as 'tis ready for presentation,
We shall publish the facts for the gratification
Of this highly-favored and Protestant nation.
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