How delightful to sit by your beans and your peas,
With a goblet of gooseberry gallantly clutched,
And chat of the blood that had deluged the Pleas
And drenched the King’s Bench,—if the glove had been touched!
If Sir Columbine Daniel, with knightly pretensions
Had snatched your “best doe,”—he’d have flooded the floor;—
Nor would even the best of his crafty inventions,
“Life Preservers,” have floated him out of his gore!
Oh, you and your horse! what a couple was there!
The man and his backer,—to win a great fight!
Though the trumpet was loud,—you’d an undisturbed air!
And the nag snuffed the feast and the fray sans affright!
Yet strange was the course which the good Cato bore
When he waddled tail-wise with the cup to his stall;—
For though his departure was at the front door,
Still he went the back way out of Westminster Hall.
He went,—and ’twould puzzle historians to say,
When they trust Time’s conveyance to carry your mail,—
Whether caution or courage inspired him that day,
For though he retreated, he never turned tail.
By my life, he’s a wonderful charger!—The best!
Though not for a Parthian corps!—yet for you!—
Distinguished alike at a fray and a feast,
What a horse for a grand Retrospective Review!
What a creature to keep a hot warrior cool
When the sun’s in the face, and the shade’s far aloof!—
What a tailpiece for Bewick!—or piebald for Poole,
To bear him in safety from Elliston’s hoof!
Well! hail to old Cato! the hero of scenes
May Astley or age ne’er his comforts abridge;—
Oh, long may he munch Amphitheatre beans,
Well “pent up in Utica” over the Bridge!
And to you, Mr. Dymoke, Cribb’s rival, I keep
Wishing all country pleasures, the bravest and best!
And oh! when you come to the Hummums to sleep,
May you lie “like a warrior taking his rest!”