Edwardsville Spectator

POETRY

From the Liverpool Mercury

CANNING'S HISTORY OF HIMSELF

My name is Canning: on the Thespian boards
My mother played her part--a thrifty dame,
Whose only care was to increase her store,
And teach her hopeful son the 'Rule of Three.'
But I had heard of sinecures, and longed
To follow in the track that leads to court-
And Heaven soon granted what I so desired
The Gallic sun rose from chaotic night,
And by its blaze a horde of Sans Culottes
Rush'd like a torrent, o'er the affrighted world
Threat'ning all crowned heads.--The Courier
wrote,
The Jacobins to succor,--I, on place
Intent--wrote, in the Anti-Jacobin.
Philippics against France--and Pitt soon
mark'd
The squibs I penn'd, and rank'd me with
his friends.
A chosen band of needy, hungry placemen,
In fortune all advancing. This life I led
Until at Waterloo we met the foe:
We fought and conquer'd--thank our lucky
stars,
The loitering Grouchy sealed the fate of Nap,
Who wore that day the crown fat Louis wears.
Exulting in our triumph, I disdained
A rhyming punster's life, and having heard
That Lusitania's king, called by his peers.
His course was bending to the Tagus' side,
I left my native land, and took with me
The sum of fourteen thousand pounds a year.
The king came not:--but what car'd I for that?
I ate and drank, and then came back again;
And, Heaven be praised, have lived to see the
day
When India hails me as her governor!