But the young Mary-Anne is not tired, Bloudie Jacke! She roams o'er your Tower by herself; She runs through, very soon, Each boudoir and saloon, And examines each closet and shelf, Your pelf, All your plate, and your china—and delf.
She looks at your Arras so fine, Bloudie Jacke! So rich, all description it mocks; And she now and then pauses To gaze at the vases, Your pictures, and or-molu clocks; Every box, Every cupboard, and drawer she unlocks.
She looks at the paintings so rare, Bloudie Jacke! That adorn every wall in your house; Your impayable pieces, Your Paul Veroneses, Your Rembrandts, your Guidos, and Dows, Moreland's Cows, Claude's Landscapes,—and Landseer's Bow-wows.
She looks at your Statues so fine, Bloudie Jacke! And mighty great notice she takes Of your Niobe crying, Your Mirmillo dying, Your Hercules strangling the snakes,— How he shakes The nasty great things as he wakes!
Your Laocoon, his serpents and boys, Bloudie Jacke! She views with some little dismay; A copy of that I can See in the Vatican, Unless the Pope's sent it away, As they say, In the Globe, he intended last May.[41]
There's your Belvidere Phœbus, with which, Bloudie Jacke! Mr. Milman says none other vies. (His lines on Apollo Beat all the rest hollow, And gained him the Newdigate prize.) How the eyes Seem watching the shaft as it flies!
There's a room full of satins and silks, Bloudie Jacke! There's a room full of velvets and lace, There are drawers full of rings, And a thousand fine things, And a splendid gold watch with a case O'er its face, Is in every room in the place.
There are forty fine rooms on a floor, Bloudie Jacke! And every room fit for a Ball, It's so gorgeous and rich, With so lofty a pitch, And so long, and so broad, and so tall; Yes, all, Save the last one—and that's very small!
It boasts not stool, table, or chair, Bloudie Jacke! But one Cabinet, costly and grand, Which has little gold figures Of little gold Niggers, With fishing-rods stuck in each hand.— It's japann'd, And it's placed on a splendid buhl stand.
It's hinges and clasps are of gold, Bloudie Jacke! And of gold are its keyhole and key, And the drawers within Have each a gold pin, And they're number'd with 1, 2, and 3, You may see All the figures in gold filigree!