Lord Byron gave vent to his contempt of the whole proceeding in the following lines:—
THE IRISH AVATAR.
"Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave,
And her ashes still float to her home o'er the tide,
Lo! George the triumphant speeds over the wave,
To the long-cherished isle which he loved like his bride.
But he comes! the Messiah of royalty comes!
Like the goodly Leviathan roll'd from the waves!
Then receive him as best such an advent becomes,
With a legion of cooks and an army of slaves.