[ 64 ] [JAN. 



THE EPITAPH OF 1830. 



HERE lie, although shorn of their rays, 



In the family-vault of old Time, 

 Three hundred and sixty -five days 



Of folly, pride, glory, and crime. 

 You may mourn o'er their miseries still, 



You may dance o'er their desolate bier ; 

 You may laugh, you may weep, as you will 



Eighteen-Hundred-and-Thirty lies here ! 



It brought us some good on its wings, 



Much ill has it taken away ; 

 For it gave us the best of Sea-Kings, 



And darkened the Conqueror's day. 

 It narrowed Corruption's dominion, 



And crushed Aristocracy's starch, 

 Gave nerve to that giant, Opinion, 



And spurred up old Mind on his march. 



It drew a new line for Court-morals, 



Laid hands on the Pensioner's treasure, 

 And told us we'll crown it with laurels 



Reform is a Cabinet-measure. 

 It brought, to the joy of each varlet, 



Both sides of a coat into play ; 

 For it stripped off the faded old Scarlet, 



And turned the court-livery Grey ! 



It set all the Sycophants sighing, 



And taught them to blush and look shy ; 

 It made, though unfitted for flying, 



Proh pudor ! a Marchioness fly. 

 How many it found looking big, 



Till it plucked out the feathers they wore ! 

 On the woolsack it placed such a Whig 



As had ne'er graced the woolsack before. 



It brought Captain Swing in a flame, 



With his wild ghme of fright to our cost : 

 While, skilled in a different game, 



Surgeon Long played a rubber and lost. 

 It gratified Hunt in his thirst 



To sit as a patriot member; 

 And it brought us back April the First, 



When we thought it the Ninth of November. 



And oh ! it made Freedom the Fashion 



In France who can ne'er have too much, 

 And who put all the rest in a passion 



The Russians, Poles, Belgians, and Dutch ! 

 Let this be the end of its story : 



May the Year that now breaks o'er its tomb, 

 Have a gleam or two more of its glory, 



A shade or two less of its gloom ! 



B. 



