St. George was confounded, he utter’d no sound;
He spoke not, he mov’d not, nor dar’d look around,
Lest his eyes should encounter his bride.
Her mien was majestic, her aspect so bright,
That her enemies shrunk from the view;
All their pleasure and laughter were hushed at the sight,
Callous Canning and Castlereagh shrunk in affright,
Pious Eldon and Sidmouth look’d blue!
* * * * *
“Begone!” to the base borough-faction she cry’d;