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Alexander Brome (Александр Бром)

On a Butchers Dog That Bit a Commanders Mare, That Stood to Be Knight of a Shire


ALL you that for Parliament Members do stand,
For County, Burrough, or City;
Listen now to my song, which is doleful for, and
A lamentable ditty.


For you must take notice that there was a Dog,
Nay a Mastiff-dog (d'you see)
And if this great Dog were ty'd to a great clog,
It had been full happy for we.


And eke there was a great Colonel stout,
That had been in many a slaughter;
But this Mastiff to eat him was going about,
As you shall hear hereafter.


You bloudy Malignants, why will you still plot?
'Twill bring you to hanging you know.
For if this Dog had done what he did not,
How had he been us'd I trow!


But happy was it for sweet Westminster,
When they went to make their choice;
That this plot was found out, for why should this •ur
In Elections have any voyce?


For surely this Mastiff, though he was big,
And had been lucky at fighting;
Yet he was not qualifi'd worth a fig,
And therefore he fell a biting!


But whom do you think? A thing of great note,
And a worthy Commanders Mare;
O what a strange battel had there been fought,
Had they gone to fight dog, fight bear!


This Dog was a Leveller in his heart,
Or some Tub-preaching Cur;
For honour or greatness he car'd not a fart,
And lov'd neither Lord nor Sir:


For when the Commander was mounted on high,
And got above many a brother,
It angred this dog at the guts verily,
To see one man above another;


And therefore he run at him with open mouth,
But it seems the Dog was but dull,
He had as good took a bear by the tooth,
As mistook a horse for a bull:


But this plot was discover'd in very good time,
And strangely, as you may perceive,
For the people saw him committing this crime;
And made him his biting leave.


And so they were parted without any harm,
That now any body seeth,
For it seems this Dog that made all this alarm,
Did but only shew his teeth.


So this Cavalier cur was beaten full sore,
And had many a knock on the pate,
But they serv'd him aright if they had beat him more,
For medling with matters of State.


Now heaven look down on our noble Protector,
His Commanders and Members eke,
And keep him from the teeth of every Elector,
That is not able to speak.


And hang all such dogs as their honours do hate,
Let them clear themselves if they can,
For if they be suffered to be in the State,
They'l conspire against horse and man.

Alexander Brome's other poems:
  1. The Cavalier
  2. The Hard Heart
  3. The Reformation
  4. The Libertine
  5. The Prodigal

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