A theologian, without doctor's chair,
He dons the gown t' escape the task of prayer.
"Heresiarch recant, or leave the school:"
A recantation proved the knave no fool. [2]
Behold him later in another sphere,
Where thieves abound and murderers appear;
Tricked out in low and meretricious art,
He plays with skill the pettifogger's part;
Chicanery's brought to succor darkest crime,
Too basely foul t' expose in decent rhyme.
Oh! shades of Littleton and Murray rise,
Where Webster trod and Choate all honor'd lies—
Rise to behold the satyr in their place,
Who points the moral of his clime and race;
And if decay and shame may wake thy grief,
Weep for New England cursed by such a chief.
Picture 7."Our hero vowed Magruder's works to take,
Whereof the books no mention deign to make."
[Page 23].
Oh! hapless hour, when from the stormy North,
This modern Cyclops marched repellent forth,
To slake his thirst for blood and plundered wealth,
Not as the soldier, but by fraud and stealth;
To waft the gales of death with horror rife
On helpless age, and wage with women strife:
To leave at Baltimore and New Orleans
The drunkard's name, or worse, the gibbet's scenes;
To license lust with all a lecher's rage,
And stab the virtue of a Christian age: