Then, too, those Jews!--I really sicken
To think of such abomination;
Fellows, who won't eat ham with chicken,
To legislate for this great nation!--
Depend upon't, when once they've sway,
With rich old Goldsmid at the head o' them,
The Excise laws will be done away,
And _Circumcise_ ones past instead o' them!
In short, dear sir, look where one will,
Things all go on so devilish ill,
That, 'pon my soul, I rather fear
Our reverend Rector may be right,
Who tells me the Millennium's near;
Nay, swears he knows the very year,
And regulates his leases by 't;--
Meaning their terms should end, no doubt,
Before the world's own lease is out.
He thinks too that the whole thing's ended
So much more soon than was intended,
Purely to scourge those men of sin
Who brought the accurst Reform Bill in.
However, let's not yet despair;
Tho' Toryism's eclipst, at present.
And--like myself, in this old chair--
Sits in a state by no means pleasant;
Feet crippled--hands, in luckless hour,
Disabled of their grasping power;
And all that rampant glee, which revelled
In this world's sweets, be-dulled, be-deviled--
Yet, tho' condemned to frisk no more,
And both in Chair of Penance set,
There's something tells me, all's not o'er
With Toryism or Bobby yet;
That tho', between us, I allow
We've not a leg to stand on now;
Tho' curst Reform and _colchicum_
Have made us both look deuced glum,
Yet still, in spite of Grote and Gout,
Again we'll shine triumphant out!
Yes--back again shall come, egad,
_Our_ turn for sport, my reverend lad.
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