The Fudges In England. Letter Viii. From Bob Fudge, Esq., To The Rev. Mortimer O'mulligan Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Tuesday evening	A
	-
I much regret dear Reverend Sir	B
I could not come to to meet you	C
But this curst gout won't let me stir	B
Even now I but by proxy greet you	C
As this vile scrawl whate'er its sense is	D
Owes all to an amanuensis	D
Most other scourges of disease	D
Reduce men to extremities	D
But gout won't leave one even these	D
	-
From all my sister writes I see	D
That you and I will quite agree	D
I'm a plain man who speak the truth	E
And trust you'll think me not uncivil	F
When I declare that from my youth	E
I've wisht your country at the devil	F
Nor can I doubt indeed from all	G
I've heard of your high patriot fame	H
From every word your lips let fall	G
That you most truly wish the same	H
It plagues one's life out thirty years	D
Have I had dinning in my ears	D
Ireland wants this and that and t'other	B
And to this hour one nothing hears	D
But the same vile eternal bother	B
While of those countless things she wanted	I
Thank God but little has been granted	I
And even that little if we're men	J
And Britons we'll have back again	J
	-
I really think that Catholic question	K
Was what brought on my indigestion	K
And still each year as Popery's curse	D
Has gathered round us I've got worse	D
Till even my pint of port a day	L
Can't keep the Pope and bile away	L
And whereas till the Catholic bill	M
I never wanted draught or pill	M
The settling of that cursed question	K
Has quite unsettled my digestion	K
	-
Look what has happened since the Elect	N
Of all the bores of every sect	N
The chosen triers of men's patience	D
From all the Three Denominations	D
Let loose upon us even Quakers	D
Turned into speechers and lawmakers	D
Who'll move no question stiff rumpt elves	D
Till first the Spirit moves themselves	D
And whose shrill Yeas and Nays in chorus	D
Conquering our Ayes and Noes sonorous	D
Will soon to death's own slumber snore us	D
Then too those Jews I really sicken	K
To think of such abomination	K
Fellows who won't eat ham with chicken	K
To legislate for this great nation	K
Depend upon't when once they've sway	L
With rich old Goldsmid at the head o' them	O
The Excise laws will be done away	L
And Circumcise ones past instead o' them	O
	-
In short dear sir look where one will	M
Things all go on so devilish ill	M
That 'pon my soul I rather fear	P
Our reverend Rector may be right	Q
Who tells me the Millennium's near	P
Nay swears he knows the very year	P
And regulates his leases by 't	Q
Meaning their terms should end no doubt	Q
Before the world's own lease is out	Q
He thinks too that the whole thing's ended	Q
So much more soon than was intended	Q
Purely to scourge those men of sin	R
Who brought the accurst Reform Bill in	R
	-
However let's not yet despair	S
Tho' Toryism's eclipst at present	Q
And like myself in this old chair	S
Sits in a state by no means pleasant	Q
Feet crippled hands in luckless hour	B
Disabled of their grasping power	B
And all that rampant glee which revelled	Q
In this world's sweets be dulled be deviled	Q
	-
Yet tho' condemned to frisk no more	T
And both in Chair of Penance set	Q
There's something tells me all's not o'er	B
With Toryism or Bobby yet	Q
That tho' between us I allow	U
We've not a leg to stand on now	U
Tho' curst Reform and colchicum	O
Have made us both look deuced glum	O
Yet still in spite of Grote and Gout	Q
Again we'll shine triumphant out	Q
	-
Yes back again shall come egad	Q
Our turn for sport my reverend lad	Q
And then O'Mulligan oh then	J
When mounted on our nags again	J
You on your high flown Rosinante	Q
Bedizened out like Show Gallantee	Q
Glitter great from substance scanty	Q
While I Bob Fudge Esquire shall ride	Q
Your faithful Sancho by your side	Q
Then talk of tilts and tournaments	D
Dam'me we'll	V
	-
	-
	-
'Squire Fudge's clerk presents	D
To Reverend Sir his compliments	D
Is grieved to say an accident	Q
Has just occurred which will prevent	Q
The Squire tho' now a little better	B
From finishing this present letter	B
Just when he'd got to Dam'me we'll	V
His Honor full of martial zeal	V
Graspt at his crutch but not being able	F
To keep his balance or his hold	Q
Tumbled both self and crutch and rolled	Q
Like ball and bat beneath the table	F
	-
All's safe the table chair and crutch	W
Nothing thank God is broken much	W
But the Squire's head which in the fall	G
Got bumped considerably that's all	G
At this no great alarm we feel	V
As the Squire's head can bear a deal	V
	-
Wednesday morning	A
	-
Squire much the same head rather light	Q
Raved about Barbers' Wigs all night	Q
	-
Our housekeeper old Mrs Griggs	D
Suspects that he meant barbarous Whigs	D

Thomas Moore

The Fudges In England. Letter Viii. From Bob Fudge, Esq., To The Rev. Mortimer O'mulligan Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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