When working blackguards come to blows, And give or take a bloody nose, Shall juries try such dogs as those, Now Nap lies at Saint Helena? No, let the Great Unpaid decide, Without appeal, on tame bull's hide, Ash-planted well, or fistified, Since Nap died at Saint Helena. When Sabbath stills the dizzy mill, Shall Cutler Tom, or Grinder Bill, On footpaths wander where they will, Now Nap lies at Saint Helena? No, let them curse, but @3feel@1 our power; Dogs! let them spend their idle hour Where burns the highway's dusty shower; For Nap died at Saint Helena. Huzza! the rascal Whiglings work For better men than Hare and Burke, And envy Algerine and Turk, Since Nap died at Saint Helena. Then close each path that sweetly climbs Suburban hills, where village chimes Remind the rogues of other times, Ere Nap died at Saint Helena. We tax their bread, restrict their trade; To toil for us, their hands are made; Their doom is sealed, their prayer is prayed; Nap perished at Saint Helena. Dogs! would they toil and fatten too? They grumble still, as dogs will do: We conquered @3them@1 at Waterloo; And Nap lies at Saint Helena. But shall the villains meet and prate In crowds about affairs of state? Ride, yeomen, ride! Act, magistrate! Nap perished at Saint Helena. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THOUGHTS OF PHENA AT NEWS OF HER DEATH by THOMAS HARDY THE DEAD HEROES by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE SOLITUDE OF SPACE by FLORA CECILE ALLISON PHILLIS INAMOROTA by LANCELOT ANDREWES PSALM 5. VERBA MEA AURIBUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |