Gazette Of The United States

FROGMORE FETE,

AN ODE* FOR MUSIC,

For the first of April,

BY PETER PINDAR, ESQ.

'TWAS at the royal seat on Frogmore Green,

With Britain's gold, uprear'd by Britain's Queen;

To charm a court, a Princess turn'd her head;

At length deliver'd was her brain,

And, lo! on Frogmore's happy, happy plain,

Wonders on wonders soon were brought to bed.

Sublime the Pair of England sate!

Staring with most enormous state,

The family of Orange by their side;

With all the pretty offspring round,

That struck the mob with awe profound;

Sweet State! untainted by one grain of pride!

And bold beside them sat each patient peer,

Carnarvon, and courtly Chesterfield, were there;

Macnamaras, tar-clad Salisbury, Townshend, Fealous, 15

The Guards of England's Sovereigns--furious fellows!

With combs, puffs, powder-bags, their temples bound,

In golden letters, Guinea Pigs, around.

But Pitt and Grenville were not there,

To whom a puppet-show is dear 20

Want of decorum on a certain debt,

Kept off the Pair from royal port,

Whose want of manners put the court.

Like our malt beer, indeed, upon the fret.

And now to charm our gracious Q--and K., 25

Ascending on a public stage,

The tuneful wonder of the age,

High Incledon, arose sublime to sing

Of war he chanted-glorious war;

Of millions, millions, sent afar. 30

To aid of falling monarchy the cause;

When lo! the lofty great all smiled applause.

Of taxes now the great musician sung—

The court, the chorus join'd,

And fill'd the wond'ring wind; 35

And taxes, taxes, through the garden rung.

Monarchs first of taxes think:

Taxes are a monarch's treasure:

"Sweet the pleasure,

Rich the treasure;" 40

Monarchs love a guinea's chink.

And now to avarice he turn'd the strain,

That suck'd a nation like a sponge—

And down to dissipation's madding train,

Who in distress a people plunge. 45

Now to poor France his plaintive voice he tun'd

When, mark! the melting audience almost swoon'd!

The songster now a graver subject chose——

"Who is to pay performers that compose

This charming fete of Frogmore?" were the 50

words:

With much surprise

And rolling eyes,

Folks heard the syllables, that labb'd like words;

Now voices came--Mine Gott!--enough, enough."..

"How! how! what, what? stuff, Incledon, stuff, 55

uff."

"Me pay! no, no! mine Gott, we haf more wit.

Go, go to Parliament---ask Pitt, ask Pitt."

With loaded subjects, ah! we see

A Jackass in the next degree:

When soon appear'd the emblematick brutes, 60

That kick'd, and purr'd, and lash'd their tails—

And well with such tame fools the treatment suits,

Off gallop'd, for royal amusement, the beasts;

'Mid the haycocks they scamper'd and knock'd

down the lasses— 65

Girls squall'd, the Court laughed, and the Jack-

asses bray'd,

At the sight of the legs by the tumult display'd.

A Couple leap'd down from their state to the

Prancers,

Musicians and Racers, Tune-grinders and Dancers;

Shook all by the hand, who, in compliment cle- 70

ver,

Roar'd aloud, "Kings and Queens, Fun and

Frogmore, for ever!!!"

* The reader will, at the first glance, perceive a resemblance between my Ode, and the celebrated Ode for St. Cecilia's Day, by Dryden, and know perhaps to which he must yield the preference. In spite of all the praises bestowed on Alexander's Feast, I dare pronounce it, a downright drunken Bartholomew-fair scene; the poetry too, not superior to the subject: whereas the Frogmore Gala was of the order of sublimity; and as for the merits of my Muse on the glorious occasion, (though indeed I could say a great deal in her favour) my good old Friend, the Public, must decide.

The Princess Elizabeth.

Ver. 1. 'Twas at the Royal Seat.

"'Twas at the Royal Feast for Persia won."

Dryden.

Ver. 18. In golden letters, Guinea Pigs, around.

"Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound."

Dryden.

Ver. 21. Want of decorum.] Not a single card of invitation was sent from Windsor to Carlton-house. Violent was the r---l displeasure in the beginning; but the Poet, in the true spirit of Christianity, hopes that he shall not be able to say, like the Liturgy, "As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Ver. 38. Taxes are a monarch's treasure.]

"Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,

Drinking is the soldier's pleasure,"

&c.

Dryden.

What a poetical and sublime compliment to the mi-

litary of that day!

Ver. 58 and 59. With loaded subjects, ah! we see

A Jackass in the next degree.]

"The mighty master smiled to see,

That Love was in the next degree."

Dryden.