EPITAPH ON A DISTINGUISHED POLITICAL CHARACTER.
HERE lies poor Dizzy,
In life so busy With intrigue and riot, And now so quiet!
He wrote Grey a letter His malice revealing ; It might have been better In tone, taste, and feeling.
Then he stuck like a leech, In a " violent" speech, To each word of that letter, Which might have been better.
When in office he " plunder'd," When out of it thunder'd, And frequently " blunder'd," And nobody wonder'd ; For he ne'er was exact As to matters of fact, Or in giving a lift To the fame of Dean Swift.
As a writer he ever Was bitter and clever ; Most in Satire abounding, And motives confounding.
When Dizzy died, Nobody cried ; And there's nobody weeping Where Dizzy lies sleeping. H. W. F.