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1752–1832

LINES

Philip Morin Freneau

Well — now ( said the devil ) it looks something better! Your title is struck on a charming new Letter: Last night in the dark, as I gave it a squint, I saw my dear partner had taken the hint.

I ever surmised ( though‘ twas doubted by some ) That the old types were shadows of substance to come: But if the new Letter is pregnant with charms, It grieves me to think of those cursed King's Arms!

The Dieu et mon droit ( his God and his right ) Is so dim, that I hardly know what is meant by't; The paws of the Lion can scarcely be seen, And the Unicorn's guts are most shamefully lean!

The Crown is so worn of your master the Despot, That I hardly know whether‘ tis a crown or a pisspot: When I rub up my day-lights, and look very sharp I just can distinguish the Irishman's Harp:

Another device appears rather silly, Alas! it is only the shade of the Lilly! For the honour of George, and the fame of our nation, Pray give his escutcheons a rectification —

Or I know what I know, ( and I'm a queer shaver ) Of Him and his Arms I'll be the In-grave-r.

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LINES · Philip Morin Freneau · Poetry Cove