And planned his treasons on the sly.
“He hung himself on gallows tree—
He gently swung in Potter’s Field,
And blessed crop that spot must yield
Of gracious memories to me.
“My Judas, whom I hope to see,
When my last treason has been done,
Dear as the rowdy to the dun,
More than my bottle is to me.”
There are some spirited lines in the parody of Macaulay’s Armada, and some felicity in the measure of “The Eagle,” a poem after the manner of Poe’s Raven; but the rich materials of the general subject for vitriolic satire and riotous humor, are very imperfectly used. The Prince President is the most accomplished rascal that Europe has yet produced, fertile as she has been in reprobate politicians, and he deserves a Juvenal. There is a meanness about his most vigorous actions which will prevent his being ranked high among the world’s tyrants. He is essentially a robber and ruffian, and his coup d’etat was a piece of brilliant rascality which would have reflected great credit on a captain of a gang of highwaymen. He has not yet performed a single action which indicates a capacity in his nature to rise above vulgar perjury and murder into splendid crime.