Tom Raw, the Griffin: A Burlesque Poem
Charles D'Oyly. 1828.
Tom was presented—the Nabob advanced, To give him—par usage—th’ embrace fraternal; But, from the hug, he shrank with fearful glance, Deeming such salutations most infernal. The Omrahs, at this strange demeanor, burn all With wonder, gazing on our hero—who, In struggling with the prince began to squall; His sword, too, swung, and nearly ran quite through His majesty’s phouzdar [head of police]—who set up squalling too.
AT this tucker, [ruckus], th’ attendants—knowing little About mistakes, conceived poor Tom a spy, Or an assassin, and unseated their metal, But fell back when they found it—all my eye: The Nabob still preserved, unchanged, his gravity, Though the court grinned, and Mr. B. began To simper at our hero’s want of suavity, And to depreciate the uncouth man, Who from the princely arms so unpolitely ran.
|Title||Tom Raw, the Griffin: A Burlesque Poem|
|Call Number||Case Y 185 .D779|