ANTICIPATED FRENCH MILLENNIUM, OR THE PARISIAN "TRIVIA."
(For the Mirror.)
"Travellers of that rare tribe, Who've seen the countries they describe."
HANNAH MORE.
When daudling diligences drag
Their lumbering length along[2] no more—
That odd anomaly!—or wag
Gon call'd, or coach—a misnomer[3]—
That Cerberus three-bodied! and
That Cerberus of music!
Such rattle with their nine-in-hand!
O, Cerbere, an tu sic?
When this, (and of Long Acre wits
To rival this would floor some!)
When this at last the Frenchman quits.
Then! then is the age d'or come!
When coxcomb waiters know their trade,
Nor mix their sauces[4] with cookey's;
When John's no longer chamber maid,
And printed well a book is.
When sorrel, garlic, dirty knife,
Et cetera, spoil no dinners—
(The punishment is after life,
Are cooks to punish sinners?)
When bucks are safe, nor streets display
A sea Mediterranean;[5]
When Cloacina wends her way
In streamlet sub-terranean.
When houses, inside well as out,
Are clean,[6] and servants civil;[7]
When dice (if e'er 'twill be I doubt)
Send fewer—to the devil.
When riot ends, and comfort reigns,
Right English comfort[8]—players
Are fetter'd with no rhythmic[9] chains—
French priests repeat French prayers.[10]
When Palais Royal vice subsides,[11]
(Who plays there's a complete ass—)
When footpaths grow on highway sides[12]—
Then! then's the Aurea-Ætas!
There, France, I leave thee.—Jean Taureau![13]
What think'st thou of thy neighbours?
Or (what I own I'd rather know)
What—think'st thou of MY LABOURS?
A TRAVELLER OF 1827, (W. P.)
Carshalton.