Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Parliamentary Oscillators

Almost awake? Why, what is this, and whence,        &nbspO ye right loyal men, all undefiléd? Sure, 'tis not possible that Common-Sense        &nbspHas hitch'd her pullies to each heavy eye-lid? Yet wherefore else that start, which discomposes        &nbspThe drowsy waters lingering in your eye? And are you really able to descry        &nbspThat precipice three yards beyond your noses? Yet flatter you I cannot, that your wit        &nbspIs much improved by this long loyal dozing; And I admire, no more than Mr. Pitt,        &nbspYour jumps and starts of patriotic prosing— Now cluttering to the Treasury Cluck, like chicken,        &nbspNow with small beaks the ravenous Bill opposing; With serpent-tongue now stinging, and now licking,        &nbspNow semi-sibilant, now smoothly glozing— Now having faith implicit that he can't err,        &nbspHoping his hopes, alarm'd with his alarms; And now believing him a sly inchanter,        &nbspYet still afraid to break his brittle charms, Lest some mad Devil suddenly unhamp'ring,        &nbspSlap-dash! the imp should fly off with the steeple, On revolutionary broom-stick scampering.—        &nbspO ye soft-headed and soft-hearted people, If you can stay so long from slumber free,        &nbspMy muse shall make an effort to salute 'e: For lo! a very dainty simile        &nbspFlash'd sudden through my brain, and 'twill just suit 'e! You know that water-fowl that cries, Quack! Quack!?        &nbspFull often have I seen a waggish crew Fasten the Bird of Wisdom on its back,        &nbspThe ivy-haunting bird, that cries, Tu-whoo! Both plung'd together in the deep mill-stream,        &nbsp(Mill-stream, or farm-yard pond, or mountain-lake,) Shrill, as a Church and Constitution scream,        &nbspTu-whoo! quoth Broad-face, and down dives the Drake! The green-neck'd Drake once more pops up to view,        &nbspStares round, cries Quack! and makes an angry pother; Then shriller screams the Bird with eye-lids blue,        &nbspThe broad-faced Bird! and deeper dives the other. Ye quacking Statesmen! 'tis even so with you—        &nbspOne Peasecod is not liker to another. Even so on Loyalty's Decoy-pond, each        &nbspPops up his head, as fir'd with British blood, Hears once again the Ministerial screech,        &nbspAnd once more seeks the bottom's blackest mud!