The Insurrection Of The Papers. A Dream.

"It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it."             --Lord CASTLEREAGH'S Speech upon Colonel M Mahon's Appointment,             April 14, 1812.     Last night I tost and turned in bed,     But could not sleep--at length I said,     "I'll think of Viscount Castlereagh,     "And of his speeches--that's the way."     And so it was, for instantly     I slept as sound as sound could be.     And then I dreamt--so dread a dream!     Fuseli has no such theme;     Lewis never wrote or borrowed     Any horror half so horrid!     Methought the Prince in whiskered state     Before me at his breakfast sate;     On one side lay unread Petitions,     On t'other, Hints from five Physicians!     Here tradesmen's bills,--official papers,     Notes from my Lady, drams for vapors     There plans of Saddles, tea and toast.     Death-warrants and The Morning Post.         When lo! the Papers, one and all.     As if at some magician's call.     Began to flutter of themselves     From desk and table, floor and shelves,     And, cutting each some different capers,     Advanced, oh jacobinic papers!     As tho' they said, "Our sole design is     "To suffocate his Royal Highness!"     The Leader of this vile sedition     Was a huge Catholic Petition,     With grievances so full and heavy,     It threatened worst of all the bevy;     Then Common-Hall Addresses came     In swaggering sheets and took their aim     Right at the Regent's well-drest head,     As if determined to be read.     Next Tradesmen's bills began to fly,     And Tradesmen's bills, we know, mount high;     Nay even Death-warrants thought they'd best     Be lively too and join the rest.         But, oh the basest of defections!     His letter about "predilections"!--     His own dear letter, void of grace,     Now flew up in its parent's face!     Shocked with this breach of filial duty,     He just could murmur "et Tu Brute?"     Then sunk, subdued upon the floor     At Fox's bust, to rise no more!     I waked--and prayed, with lifted hand,     "Oh! never may this Dream prove true;     "Tho' paper overwhelms the land,         "Let it not crush the Sovereign, too!"