And go it, Jacob Homnium, And ply your iron pen, And rise up, Sir John Jervis, And shut me up that den; That sty for fattening lawyers in, On the bones of honest men. "Come down from that tribewn, thou shameless and unjust!" It is impossible not to feel that he felt this as he wrote it. There is a branch of his poetry which he calls,--or which at any rate is now called, _Lyra Hybernica_, for which no doubt _The Groves of Blarney_ was his model. There have been many imitations since, of which perhaps Barham's ballad on the coronation was the best, "When to Westminster the Royal Spinster and the Duke of Leinster all in order did repair!" Thackeray in some of his attempts has been equally droll and equally graphic. That on _The Cristal Palace_,--not that at Sydenham, but its forerunner, the palace of the Great Exhibition,--is very good, as the following catalogue of its contents will show; There's holy saints And window paints, By Maydiayval Pugin; Alhamborough Jones Did paint the tones Of yellow and gambouge in. There's fountains there And crosses fair; There's water-gods with urns; There's organs three, To play, d'ye see? "God save the Queen," by turns. There's statues bright Of marble white, Of silver, and of copper; And some in zinc, And some, I think, That isn't over proper. There's staym ingynes, That stands in lines, Enormous and amazing, That squeal and snort Like whales in sport, Or elephants a grazing. There's carts and gigs, And pins for pigs, There's dibblers and there's harrows, And ploughs like toys For little boys, And ilegant wheel-barrows. For thim genteels Who ride on wheels, There's plenty to indulge 'em There's droskys snug From Paytersbug, And vayhycles from Bulgium. There's cabs on stands And shandthry danns; There's waggons from New York here; There's Lapland sleighs Have cross'd the seas, And jaunting cyars from Cork here. In writing this Thackeray was a little late with his copy for _Punch_; not, we should say, altogether an uncommon accident to him. It should have been with the editor early on Saturday, if not before, but did not come till late on Saturday evening. The editor, who was among men the most good-natured and I should think the most forbearing, either could not, or in this case would not, insert it in the next week's issue, and Thackeray, angry and disgusted, sent it to _The Times_. In _The Times_ of next Monday it appeared,--very much I should think to the delight of the readers of that august newspaper. Mr. Molony's account of the ball given to the Nepaulese ambassadors by the Peninsular and Oriental Company, is so like Barham's coronation in the account it gives of the guests, that one would fancy it must be by the same hand.