________________________________________________
Title: Announcement Of A New Thalaba
Author: Thomas Moore [
More Titles by Moore]
ADDRESSED TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue
The terrible tale of Thalaba sung--
Of him, the Destroyer, doomed to rout
That grim divan of conjurors out,
Whose dwelling dark, as legends say,
Beneath the roots of the ocean lay,
(Fit place for deep ones, such as they,)
How little thou knewest, dear Dr. Southey,
Altho' bright genius all allow thee,
That, some years thence, thy wondering eyes
Should see a second Thalaba rise--
As ripe for ruinous rigs as thine,
Tho' his havoc lie in a different line,
And should find this new, improved Destroyer
Beneath the wig of a Yankee lawyer;
A sort of an "alien," _alias_ man,
Whose country or party guess who can,
Being Cockney half, half Jonathan;
And his life, to make the thing completer,
Being all in the genuine Thalaba metre,
Loose and irregular as thy feet are;--
First, into Whig Pindarics rambling,
Then in low Tory doggrel scrambling;
Now _love_ his theme, now _Church_ his glory
(At once both Tory and ama-tory),
Now in the Old Bailey-_lay_ meandering,
Now in soft _couplet_ style philandering;
And, lastly, in lame Alexandrine,
Dragging his wounded length along,
When scourged by Holland's silken thong.
In short, dear Bob, Destroyer the Second
May fairly a match for the First be reckoned;
Save that _your_ Thalaba's talent lay
In sweeping old conjurors clean away,
While ours at aldermen deals his blows,
(Who no great conjurors are, God knows,)
Lays Corporations, by wholesale, level,
Sends Acts of Parliament to the devil,
Bullies the whole Milesian race--
Seven millions of Paddies, face to face;
And, seizing that magic wand, himself,
Which erst thy conjurors left on the shelf,
Transforms the boys of the Boyne and Liffey
All into _foreigners_, in a jiffy--
Aliens, outcasts, every soul of 'em,
Born but for whips and chains, the whole of 'em?
Never in short did parallel
Betwixt two heroes _gee_ so well;
And among the points in which they fit,
There's one, dear Bob, I can't omit.
That hacking, hectoring blade of thine
Dealt much in the _Domdaniel_ line;
And 'tis but rendering justice due,
To say that ours and his Tory crew
_Damn Daniel_ most devoutly too.
[The end]
Thomas Moore's poem: Announcement Of A New Thalaba
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
