Her sermon at cock-crow doth preach,
On sweet Prosperity—or greed.
‘Lo! as the beasts feed, each for each,
God’s blessings let us take, and feed!’
XXV
Ungrateful creatures crave a part—
She tells them firmly she is full;
Lost sheared sheep hurt her tender heart
With bleating, stops her ears with wool:—
XXVI
Seized sometimes by prodigious qualms
(Nightmares of bankruptcy and death),—
Showers down in lumps a load of alms,
Then pants as one who has lost a breath;
XXVII
Believes high heaven, whence favours flow,
Too kind to ask a sacrifice
For what it specially doth bestow;—
Gives she, ’tis generous, cheese to mice.
XXVIII
She saw the young Dominion strip
For battle with a grievous wrong,
And curled a noble Norman lip,
And looked with half an eye sidelong;