BETA

The King of the Radical Islands.

Written a little after the death of George IV.

You’ve heard of sovereigns stern and wild,1
Whose every deed was cruel styl’d,2
Yet I will sing of one more mild3
The King of the Radical Islands.4
Oh ! when this mighty sovereign felt5
That pow’r which makes a savage melt,6
Like any cooing dove he knelt,7
The King of the Radical Islands.8
There were Fitzie, Betsy, Emaline,9
Emma, Anna, Caroline,10
With other beauties ninety-nine,11
For the King of the Radical Islands.12
His stature reach’d unto the skies,13
Like two vast oceans were his eyes,14
His nose mount Ætna was for size,15
The King of the Radical Islands.16
His mighty voice was loud as when17
The thunder’s echo o’er the plain ;18
And distant nations cried amen19
To the King of the Radical Islands.20
The east before him bending fell,21
The west his mighty pow’r could tell,22
The wondrous deep cried out “ All’s well,”23
To the King of the Radical Islands.24
He had a thousand castles good,25
A thousand navies on the flood,26
One hundred thousand men of blood,27
The King of the Radical Islands.28
Around him sat, like blazing stars,29
In all their medals and their scars,30
The chiefs who rul’d the former wars31
Of the King of the Radical Islands.32
Now gaily nodded every crest,33
True patriotism fir’d each breast34
Their names ne’er stained the pension list35
Of the King of the Radical Islands.36
Of mitred saints he had a score,37
But some affirm that he had more,38
Who daily humble sackcloth wore,39
For the King of the Radical Islands.40
For them no claret sparkled red,41
No rest on downy couch they had,42
On meagre, lowly fare they fed,43
’Neath the King of the Radical Islands.44
Their incomes—all they had below45
They parted ’ mongst the sons of woe,46
Which caus’d infinite joy to flow47
To the King of the Radical Islands.48
He died—and oh ! what tears were shed,49
What sighs and groans rose for the dead,50
With grief our very noses bled,51
For the King of the Radical Islands.52
The cloister’d nun forgot her book,53
The priest stood by the cross and shook,54
The lady abbess chang’d her look,55
For the King of the Radical Islands.56
We could not read, we could not pray,57
Our senses left us day by day,58
Thinking of him who’s in the clay,59
The King of the Radical Islands.60