And more, though the Muse knows but little concerning 'em, "Sir Hopkins," "Sir Popkins," "Sir Gage," and "Sir Jerningham," All _Preux Chevaliers_, in friendly rivalry Who should best bring back the glory of Chi-valry.-- --(Pray be so good, for the sake of my song, To pronounce here the ante-penultimate long; Or some hyper-critic will certainly cry, "The word 'Chivalry' is but a 'rhyme to the eye.'" And I own it is clear A fastidious ear Will be, more or less, always annoy'd with you when you insert any rhyme that's not perfectly genuine. As to pleasing the "eye," 'Tisn't worth while to try, Since Moore and Tom Campbell themselves admit "Spinach" Is perfectly antiphonetic to "Greenwich.")-- But stay!--I say! Let me pause while I may-- This digression is leading me sadly astray From my object--A grave for my poor dog Tray! I would not place him beneath thy walls, And proud o'ershadowing dome, St. Paul's! Though I've always consider'd Sir Christopher Wren, As an architect, one of the greatest of men; And,--talking of Epitaphs,--much I admire his, "_Circumspice, si Monumentum requiris_;" Which an erudite Verger translated to me, "If you ask for his monument, _Sir-come-spy-see!_--" No!--I should not know where To place him there; I would not have him by surly Johnson be;-- Or that queer-looking horse that is rolling on Ponsonby;-- Or those ugly minxes The sister Sphynxes, Mix'd creatures, half lady, half lioness, _ergo_, (Denon says), the emblems of _Leo_ and _Virgo_; On one of the backs of which singular jumble, Sir Ralph Abercrombie is going to tumble, With a thump which alone were enough to despatch him, If the Scotchman in front shouldn't happen to catch him. No! I'd not have him there,--nor nearer the door, Where the man and the Angel have got Sir John Moore,[6] And are quietly letting him down through the floor, By Gillespie, the one who escaped, at Vellore, Alone from the row;-- Neither he, nor Lord Howe Would like to be plagued with a little Bow-wow. No, Tray, we must yield, And go further a-field; To lay you by Nelson were downright effront'ry;-- --We'll be off from the City, and look at the country. It shall not be there, In that sepulchred square, Where folks are interr'd for the sake of the air, (Though, pay but the dues, they could hardly refuse To Tray what they grant to Thuggs, and Hindoos, Turks, Infidels, Heretics, Jumpers, and Jews,)