CAPTAIN FALCON OF THE GUARDS.
I.
CAPTAIN FALCON of the Guards,
How nice you thought to do me brown;
You thought that I'd accept a bill
For discount, when you went to town.
At me you smiled, but unbeguiled
I saw the snare, and I retired:
The black-leg of a hundred "hells,"
Your friendship's not to be desired.
II.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
I know you thought to get my name;
Your cunning was no match for mine,
Too wide-awake to play your game.
Nor would I write for your delight
A name the Jews ne'er saw before—
My simple name across a bill
Is worth a hundred pounds or more.
III.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
Some softer pupil you must find,
For were you Colonel of your troop,
I'd shun you still, and all your kind.
You thought to've seen me jolly green;
A plump refusal's my reply:
The army agents in Craig Court
Are not more up to you than I.
IV.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
You put strange memories in my head;
Not thrice the bill had been renewed
When I beheld young Pigeon fled.
Your crack turn-outs, your drinking bouts,
A fine acquaintance you may be;
But there was that across the bill,
That he had hardly cared to see.
V.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
When first he met the gov'nor's view,
He had the passions of his kind—
He spake some certain truths of you.
Indeed, I heard one bitter word
About a certain game at cards,
Which, should it e'er get noised abroad,
Would cook your goose at the Horse Guards.
VI.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
There stands a bailiff in your hall;
Tradesmen are knocking at your door:
Pigeon no longer pays for all.
You held your course without remorse,
To make him trust his run of luck,
And, last, you fairly stripped him clean,
And sought some other bird to pluck.
VII.
Trust me, Falcon of the Guards,
That bill to pay he never meant;
The grand old Judge who tried the cause
Smiled at your claim for money lent.
Howe'er it be, it seems to me
These promised pounds are not bank-notes;
Gold sovereigns are more than words,
And copper pence than paper groats.
VIII.
I know you, Falcon of the Guards;
You're linked with many a scoundrel crew,
Whose nights are spent in playing deep—
Would that your play was honest too!
Be rogue, you must; spurned with mistrust,
Cash is no longer raised with ease;
Your credit, has it sunk so low,
You needs must play such pranks as these?
IX.
Captain Falcon of the Guards,
If tin be needful at your hand,
Are there no money lenders left,
Nor any Jews within the land?
Oh! take the bill-discounters in,
Or try the legal shark to do;
Pray write a promissory-note—
And let the foolish Pigeons go.
The Puppet Show, July 8, 1848.