Titus Tagg, “Felicitation: To the Public on the Return of Peace and Plenty, By the Exuberant Mr. Titus Tagg, Laureate and Improvisatore to the Poet’s Corner of the—Evening Post.”

Performer Name:

 

Performance Venue:

 

Performance Date:

 

Author:

“Titus Tagg”

Date Written:

1801

Language:

English

Publication Title:

The Wiccamical Chaplet: A Selection of Original Poetry

Article Title:

Felicitation: To the Public on the Return of Peace and Plenty, By the Exuberant Mr. Titus Tagg, Laureate and Improvisatore to the Poet’s Corner of the—Evening Post.

Page Numbers:

194-95

Additional Info:

Ed. George Huddesford

Publisher:

 

Place of Publication:

London

Date Published:

1804

Text:

[194] (The two first following Couplets were displayed on a Transparency at Mr. Tagg's Garret Window on the Night of the Illumination for signing the Preliminaries of Peace in 1801. The dimensions of the Window were too limited for the display of the Remainder.)

 

LET'S DRINK THEIR HEALTHS, BY WAY OF MOTTO,

"HERE'S TO LORD HAWKESBURY AND MONSIEUR OTTO!"

   Since I approve the Peace in toto
   May he that breaks it first be shot-o!
   'Twill in his 'scutcheon make a blot-o:
   'Tis Peace that makes us boil the Pot-o,
   And cut up Sirloins piping hot-o.
   Now to Forestallers I cry, "What, ho!
   "Your grain, whether you will or not-o,
   "At length our markets must be brought to,
   "And soon you'll not be worth a groat-o."
      Their desp'rate cause must stink and rot-o
   Against Old England's weal who plot-o;
   Then, if they can't abide this spot-o,
   Botany Bay, Sirs, let 'em trot to.
[195]   But let each man who knows what's what-o,
   Each married dame, and each old Trott-o,
   As yellow as an apricotto,
   Who ne'er was ask'd to tye the knot-o,
   Exult, from palace to the cot-o,
   For we shall see rare times, I wot-o,
   For which I shout and strain my throat-o;
   And therefore take a dram I ought to
   To lubricate my Epligotto.—
   Claret or Port, if I had got-o,
   Vinous libations they should flow to
   Lord Hawkesbury and Monsieur Otto:
   But, tho' I soar in rhime and thought too,
   I eat cow-heels and porter poto.
      Given, diabolunculo* to,
   From my aërial Grubstreet Grotto.

*"diabolunculo": Poeticè, Printer's Devil.

Notes:

Collected by:

DP