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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS by THOMAS MOORE

First Line: LAST NIGHT I TOSS'D AND TURN'D IN BED
Last Line: "LET IT NOT CRUSH THE SOVEREIGN TOO!"

LAST night I toss'd and turn'd in bed,
But could not sleep -- at length I said,
"I'll think of Viscount C -- stl -- r -- gh,
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 dream'd -- O frightful dream!
Fuseli has no such theme;
----- never wrote or borrow'd
Any horror, half so horrid!

Methought the P -- e, in whisker'd state,
Before me at his breakfast sate;
On one side lay unread Petitions,
On t'other, Hints from five Physicians --
@3Here@1 tradesmen's bills, official papers,
Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours --
@3There@1 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, O jacobinic papers!
As though 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 threaten'd worst of all the bevy.
Then Common-Hall Addresses came
In swaggering sheets, and took their aim
Right at the R -- g -- t's well-dress'd head,
As if @3determined@1 to be read!
Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly,
And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high;
Nay, e'en 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!
Shock'd with this breach of filial duty,
He just could murmur "@3et tu Brute?@1"
Then sunk, subdued upon the floor
At Fox's bust, to rise no more!

I waked -- and pray'd with lifted hand,
"Oh! never may this dream prove true;
Though Paper overwhelms the land,
Let it not crush the Sovereign too!"



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