Announcement Of A New Thalaba. Addressed To Robert Southey, Esq.

When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue     The terrible tale of Thalaba sung--     Of him, the Destroyer, doomed to rout     That grim divan of conjurors out,     Whose dwelling dark, as legends say,     Beneath the roots of the ocean lay,     (Fit place for deep ones, such as they,)     How little thou knewest, dear Dr. Southey,     Altho' bright genius all allow thee,     That, some years thence, thy wondering eyes     Should see a second Thalaba rise--     As ripe for ruinous rigs as thine,     Tho' his havoc lie in a different line,     And should find this new, improved Destroyer     Beneath the wig of a Yankee lawyer;     A sort of an "alien," alias man,     Whose country or party guess who can,     Being Cockney half, half Jonathan;     And his life, to make the thing completer,     Being all in the genuine Thalaba metre,     Loose and irregular as thy feet are;--     First, into Whig Pindarics rambling,     Then in low Tory doggrel scrambling;     Now love his theme, now Church his glory     (At once both Tory and ama-tory),     Now in the Old Bailey-lay meandering,     Now in soft couplet style philandering;     And, lastly, in lame Alexandrine,     Dragging his wounded length along,     When scourged by Holland's silken thong.     In short, dear Bob, Destroyer the Second     May fairly a match for the First be reckoned;     Save that your Thalaba's talent lay     In sweeping old conjurors clean away,     While ours at aldermen deals his blows,     (Who no great conjurors are, God knows,)     Lays Corporations, by wholesale, level,     Sends Acts of Parliament to the devil,     Bullies the whole Milesian race--     Seven millions of Paddies, face to face;     And, seizing that magic wand, himself,     Which erst thy conjurors left on the shelf,     Transforms the boys of the Boyne and Liffey     All into foreigners, in a jiffy--     Aliens, outcasts, every soul of 'em,     Born but for whips and chains, the whole of 'em?     Never in short did parallel     Betwixt two heroes gee so well;     And among the points in which they fit,     There's one, dear Bob, I cant omit.     That hacking, hectoring blade of thine     Dealt much in the Domdaniel line;     And 'tis but rendering justice due,     To say that ours and his Tory crew     Damn Daniel most devoutly too.