1792- poetry. 67 



Some thought old Hamlet's buck:am ghost 



Hud rose in evil hour ; 

 Whilst others judg'd the jointed mail 



Had wallt'd from out the tower. 



But Edmund soon convinc'd them all 



That on his legs he stood, 

 And that his arm, tho' chill'd with age. 



Was yet of Hefli and blood. 



Full tilt he ran at all he met, 



And round he dealt his knocks. 

 Till with a backward stroke at last. 



He hit poor-CHARLE Y Fox. 



Now Charley was, of all his friends. 



The warmest friend he had ; 

 So when he felt this gracelefs blow. 



He cleem'd the man was mad. 



With gr'ef his gen'rous bosom rose, 



A grief too great to hide; 

 And as the stroke was somewhat hard, 



He sat him down and cry'd. 



But not a whit did Edmund feel. 



For at iiis friend he flew, 

 Resolv'd before the neiglibours round. 



To beat him black and blue. 



Then Charles Indignant started up, 



The meagre form he took. 

 And with a giant's awful grasp, 



His rusty armour ftook. 



O have ye seen a mastift" strong, 



A fhivering lap-dog tear? 

 Then may ^rou judge hov/ Edmund did 



When tliw'd by Charles appear. 



But yet his gauntlet down he threw. 



In beauty's cause to fight, 

 And dar'd all Christendom to prove 



His courage and his might. 



And wild he roam'd the country round, 



Aid angry sco irs the stret:ts. 

 And tweaks the nose, or kicks the brtJch 



Of ev'ry whig he m«ct». 



