I’m sick of fame—I’m gorged with it—so full
I almost could regret the happier hour
When northern oracles proclaimed me dull,
Grieving my Lord should so mistake his power—
E’en they, who now my consequence would lull,
And vaunt they hail’d and nurs’d the opening flower.
Vile cheats! He knew not, impudent Reviewer,
Clear spring of Helicon from common sewer.
‘Tis said, they killed the gentle soul’d Montgomery—
I’ll swear, they did not shed for him a tear!
He had not spirit to revenge their mummery,
Nor lordly purse to print and persevere:
I measured stings with ’em—a method summary—
Not that I doubt their penitence sincere;
And I’ve a fancy running in my head
They’ll like; or so by some it will be said.
When doomsday comes, St. Paul’s will be on fire—
I should not wonder if we live to see it—
Of us, proof pickles, Heaven must rather tire,
And want a reckoning—if so, so be it—
Only about the Cupola, or higher,
If there’s a place unoccupied, give me it—
To catch, before I touch my sinner’s salary,
The first grand crackle in the whispering gallery.
The ball comes tumbling with a lively crash,
And splits the pavement up, and shakes the shops,
Teeth chatter, china dances, spreads the flash,
The omnium falls, the Bank of England stops;
Loyal and radical, discreet and rash,
Each on his knees in tribulation flops;
The Regent raves (Moore chuckling at his pain)
And sends about for ministers in vain.
The roaring streamers flap, red flakes are shot
This way and that, the town is a volcano—
And yells are heard, like those provoked by Lot,
Some, of the Smithfield sort, and some soprano;
Some holy water seek, the font is hot,
And fizzing in a tea-kettle piano.
Now bring your magistrates, with yeomen back’d,
Bawls Belial, and read the Riot-act!—
The Peak of Derbyshire goes to and fro;
Like drunken sot the Monument is reeling:
Now fierce and fiercer comes the furious glow,
The planets, like a juggler’s ball, are wheeling:
I am a graceless poet, as you know,
Yet would not wish to wound a proper feeling,
Nor hint you’d hear, from saints in agitation,
The lapsus lingu
(Lady Caroline Lamb)
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Based on Topics: Heaven Poems, Place Poems, Flowers Poems, Literature Poems, Grief Poems, Poets Poems, Dancing Poems, Emotions Poems, England Poems, Astronomy & Cosmology Poems, Sincerity PoemsBased on Keywords: power-, bawls, smithfield, flops, fame-, mummery, fizzing, unoccupied, em-, reviewer, omnium