The Parliament—its grand defeats and glories—
Its orators profound, and twaddling bores—
The fiery democrats—the Whigs—the Tories—
Ah! blessed fate that gave them to the Moors!
Full many a swell whose way is “all serene,”
Luxurious yachts across the ocean bear;
Full many a gent, too, makes a rush unseen,
To taste the sweetness of the desert air.
Ah you, ye proud of independent wealth,
That boast of heraldry, and power, and pomp!