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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"


"And wherefore," said this best of Peers,
"Should not the REGENT too have ears,
"To reach as far, as long and wide as
"Those of his model, good King MIDAS?"
This speech was thought extremely good,
And (rare for him) was understood--
Instant we drank "The REGENT'S Ears,"
With three times three illustrious cheers,
Which made the room resound like thunder--
"The REGENT'S Ears, and may he ne'er
"From foolish shame, like MIDAS, wear
"Old paltry _wigs_ to keep them[2] under!"
This touch at our old friends, the Whigs,
Made us as merry all as grigs.
In short (I'll thank you not to mention
These things again), we get on gayly;
And thanks to pension and Suspension,
Our little Club increases daily.
CASTLES, and OLIVER, and such,
Who don't as yet full salary touch,
Nor keep their chaise and pair, nor buy
Houses and lands, like TOM and I,
Of course don't rank with us _salvators_,[3]
But merely serve the Club as waiters,
Like Knights, too, we've our _collar_ days,
(For _us_, I own, an awkward phrase,)
When, in our new costume adorned,--
The REGENT'S buff-and-blue coats _turned_--
We have the honor to give dinners
To the chief Rats in upper stations:
Your WEMYS, VAUGHANS,--half-fledged sinners,
Who shame us by their imitations;
Who turn, 'tis true--but what of that?
Give me the useful _peaching_ Rat;
_Not_ things as mute as Punch, when bought,
Whose wooden heads are all they've brought;
Who, false enough to shirk their friends,
But too faint-hearted to betray,
Are, after all their twists and bends,
But souls in Limbo, damned half way.


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