II.

Says C-KB-N, "See,
"There hangs for me
"The charming gown of Office :"

Says PUCK," Not so,

"For me, I know

"That selfsame gown cast off is.”

But GR-NT beholds

The silken folds,

And cries," What vain vagaries; "That gown is mine;

"I'll not resign—

"You'd make fine function-aries!"

Oh! the Toga, the dear delightful Toga! Charming dress

Of old Dundas,

SOLICITOR'S Silk Toga!

* THROUGH ERIN's isle,

To sport awhile,

As LOVE and VALOUR wandered, &c.

CAPTAIN CLERK'S ADDRESS TO HIS FOLLOWERS.

(A night or two before the grand exhibition at the Pantheon, some of the leading characters of the Whig corps met in a back room in the Parliament Square, to arrange the performance. It was there urged by some, that, before closing the grand exhibition, the performers, and as many of the audience as might choose to join, should sing the favourite national song of" Scots wha hae wi' Wallace. bled;" but others thought that this would be imprudent, as it would be too open an acknowledgment of union with the Radicals. To put an end to the dispute, and please both parties, the "stern captain of the band" struck up the following original ditty, to the foresaid national air.)

Whigs wha hae wi' Erskine fed,
Whigs wham Clerk has aften led,
Welcome frae the Cowgate head,
On to Corri's gallery!

Now's the day, an' now's the hour!
See the front of faction lour,

See approach proud Blackwood's power!
Blackwood's wit and ribaldry.

Wha will be a Tory loon?

Wha wou'd fill a Placeman's gown?

Wha sae base as serve the Crown?

Tory, Placeman! turn and flie!

Wha for Scotland's Queen-by-Law Party breath will deeply draw? Queensman stand, or Queensman fa'?— Ragamuffin! follow me!

By the Session's toil and pain,

By our glory on the wane,

We will crack our geyzen'd brain,
Power and Place to win!

Turn the proud usurpers out;

Tories flie, like very nowt;
Whiggery's in ev'ry shout;

We shall, we shall be in!

ACT SECOND

OF THE

WHIG CONVOCATION.

Good now-play me a scene

Of excellent dissembling, and let it look

Like perfect honour.

Antony and Cleopatra.

I'm told, most courteous reader-that the whigs, Have sworn by Fox's manes, and their wigs, Whose curls, whene'er they glanced athwart our

page,

Perplexed and powdery rose in very rage:

And well we know, when lawyers thus obtest
By oaths so sacred, that they're sorely press'd.
Excuse digressions-what I meant to say
Was this that, at a meeting yesterday,

The whigs made oath no sleep their eyes should own Till he, the wretch who penn'd these lines, was known.

Known, did I say-aye known and pummell'd too, And flea'd alive in their once great review.

Yet was the muse good-humoured---kind---and free: A little raillery and repartee,

A few gay lines---remote from venomed spite,
Like Summer lightning, innocent though bright,
Were all her arms---she scorned, whate'er her creed,
The wound that makes one honest heart to bleed.
And if you'll re-peruse you'll own, I think,
There was nor gall nor poison in the ink.
Then fear not, gentle muse-again descend,
And Gifford still thy kind attention lend.

Within the precincts of this ancient town
A Circus stands-where Pantaloon and Clown,
Ferzi and Davis, with their glittering pack
Charm gazing imps on ropes or tight or slack;
Where silver-slippered Columbine is seen,

And flowery-kirtled girls surround their queen,
And Harlequin, like bridegroom fresh and spruce,
And she, the ancient crone, that rides on goose,
Delight the populace:-It is agreed

That Ferzi shall be bribed, and Corri fee'd,
To lend their Circus for the Grand Debate,
Whose issue tells what men must guide the state.
And Corri smiled consent-alas! how changed
That brilliant theatre-on benches ranged,
Head above head, well squeez'd in leg and limb,
With eager faces, lowering, dark, and grim,
Myriads of lesser whigs, unnam'd, unknown,
Sat, thick as leaves in Vallambrosa strown.
The audience these-behold a nobler band,
The future leaders of this sinking land,
Throng on the stage-prepared with hand and heart
In this state opera to play their part.