Only Son of SIR ROBERT TAYLOR, Knt. and late Sheriff--also Sub-Deputy, Vice-Chairman to the Irish Committee, King's Counsel, and Welsh Judge Elect, &c, &c.
I. Hail, all hail, thou natal day! Hail the very half hour, I say, On which great GEORGE was born! Tho' scarcely fledg'd, I'll try my wing-- And tho', alas! I cannot sing, I'll _crow_ on this illustrious morn! Sweet bird, that chirp'st the note of folly, So pleasantry, so drolly!-- Thee, oft the stable yards among, I woo, and emulate thy song! Thee, for my emblem still I choose! Oh! with thy voice inspire a _Chicken of the Muse!_
II. And thou, great Earl, ordain'd to sit High arbiter of verse and wit, Oh crown my wit with fame! Such as it is, I prithee take it; Or if thou can'st not find it, make it: To me 'tis just the same. Once a white wand, like thine, my father bore: But now, alas! that white wand is no more! Yet though his pow'r be fled, Nor Bailiff wait his nod nor Gaoler; Bright honour still adorns the head Of my Papa, Sir _Robert Tayler!_ Ah, might that honour on his son alight! On this auspicious day How my little heart would glow, If, as I bend me low, My gracious King wou'd say, Arise, SIR MICHAEL ANGELO! O happiest day, that brings the happiest Knight!
III. Thee, too, my _fluttering_ Muse invokes, Thy guardian aid I beg. Thou great ASSESSOR, fam'd for jokes, For jokes of face and leg! So may I oft thy stage-box grace, (The first in beauty as in place) And smile responsive to thy changeful face! For say, renowned mimic, say, Did e'er a merrier crowd obey Thy laugh-provoking summons, Than with fond glee, enraptur'd sit, Whene'er with _undesigning wit_, I entertain the Commons? Lo! how I shine St. Stephen's boast! There, first of _Chicks_, I rule the _roast_! There I appear, Pitt's _Chanticleer_. The _Bantam Cock_ in opposition! Or like a _hen_ With watchful ken, Sit close and hatch--the Irish propositions!
IV. Behold for this great day of pomp and pleasure, The House adjourns, and I'm at leisure! If _thou_ art so, come muse of sport, With a few rhymes, Delight the times, And coax the Chamberlain, and charm the Court! By Heaven she comes!--more swift than prose, At her command, my metre flows; Hence, ye weak warblers of the rival lays! Avaunt, ye Wrens, ye Goslings, and ye Pies! The _Chick of Law_ shall _win_ the prize! The _Chick of Law_ shall _peck_ the bays! So, when again the State deminds our care, Fierce in my laurel'd pride, I'll take the chair!-- GILBERT, I catch thy bright invention, With somewhat more of _sound retention[1]!_ But never, never on thy _prose_ I'll border-- _Verse_, lofty-sounding _Verse_, shall "_Call to Order!_" Come, sacred Nine, come one and all, Attend your fav'rite Chairman's call! Oh! if I well have chirp'd your brood among, Point my keen eye, and tune my brazen tongue! And hark! with Elegiac graces, "I beg that gentlemen may take their places!" Didactic Muse, be thine to state, The rules that harmonize debate! Thine, mighty CLIO, to resound from far, "The door! the door!--the bar! the bar!" Stout _Pearson_ damns around at her dread word;-- "Sit down!" cries _Clementson_, and grasps his silver sword.