We cannot find a—Poet!
Well, there is one; but him both Whig and Tory hate;
Whence he, although a Poet, is not Laureate!
And, after all, John Bull is little loth
To wait, until he finds one who is both.
For, after Tennyson, the choice, we see,
Doth lie 'twixt—Tweedledum and Tweedledee!
Because they are not good enough who crave it,
Whilst one or two more worthy will not have it.