O IRELAND, spot accurs’d—tho’ glorious fair, Shines there the sun, the flowers enamell’d blow, And scent, with fragrance sweet, the balmy air, Rippling the gliding pools that softly flow; No noxious reptile there to man a foe Abides, but black revenge with cautious plan, Cool-blooded cruelty with torments slow, Springs rank; with weeds the goodly soil’s o’er-ran, And all the reptile’s venom rankles in the man. XXII. Then in a gorgeous car of beaten gold, Drove on a portly man, of mighty rank,[335] A person comely, of extraction old; But, carrion-like, his reputation stank; Sly was the wight, with crafty quip and crank, To cram with glittering coin his bursting bags; Yet whilom taxing-men play’d him a prank, By catching in their traps some strayed nags, And eke some livery slaves, in miser’s livery rags. XXIII. Then on a turtle came proud London’s Mayor, Followed by Aldermen, a frowsy crew, Strong smelling of Cheapside, and luscious fair, Yet apoplexy made his followers few. Long antlers on the head of each man grew, So that they seem’d a host of moving horn; Anon as on they came they’d mump and chew, Stuffing their guts from dawning of the morn, Till shades of evening fell—for eating only born. XXIV. On a cock sparrow fed with Spanish flies, A swilling Captain came, with liquor mellow, And still the crowd in hideous uproar cries,[336] “Sing us a bawdy song, thou d——d good fellow”, Incontinent he sets himself to bellow, And shouts with all the strength that in him lies; The Citizets exclaim, “He’s sans pareilly O”; The Citizens in raptures roll their eyes, And drink with leathern ears, the fool’s lewd ribaldries. XXV. On came these wights, and many more beside, Thick as the grains of sand upon the shore, Thick as a swarm of flies in summer tide, That on a dunghill hive and hover o’er; Most had their hides all scall’d, their trousers tore; Many sans breeches, shameless trudg’d along, And many a noble knave and titled w——e, With Irish bog-trotters would crowd and throng, Carolling catches base, and filthy French chanson. XXVI. Like roaring waves they cover’d all the plain; And tho’ equality they still requir’d, Each cudgell’d sore his breast with might and main, Each to get foremost ardently desir’d. Some fell into the dirt, and foul were mir’d, The rest rode over them and took no heed. Their yells, with patriotic ardour fired, So made my flesh to quake with very dread, That Morpheus left my couch, and all the vision fled.