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Thomas Moore - An Incantation
Work rating: Low

Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy — or from soap;
Bright as e`er the South Sea sent
from its frothy element!
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny W—lks,
Thou, who rhym`st so well to bilks;
Mix the lather - who can be
Fitter for such task than thee,
Great M.P. for Sudsbury!

For the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter bring thy pipe, —
Thou, whom ancient Coventry,
Once so dearly lov`d, that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter; —
Puff the bubbles high in air,
Puff thy best to keep them there.

Bravo, bravo, Peter M—re!
Now the rainbow humbugs soar,
Glitt`ring all with golden hues,
Such as haunt the dreams of Jews; —
Some reflecting mines that lie
Under Chili`s glowing sky,
Some, those virgin pearls that sleep
Cloister`d in the southern deep;
Others, as if lent a ray
Form the streaming Milky Way,
Glist`ning o`er with curds and whey
From the cows of Alderney.

Now`s the moment — who shall first
Catch the buble, ere they burst?
Run, ye Squires, ye Viscounts, run,
Br-gd-n, T-ynh-m, P-lm-t-n; —
John W—lks junior runs beside ye!
Take the good the knaves provide ye!
See, with upturn`d eyes and hands,
Where the Shareman, Bri-gd-n, stands,
Gaping for the froth to fall
Down his gullet - lye and all.
See!—-But hark my time is out —
Now, like some great water-spout,
Scaterr`d by the cannon`s thunder,
Burst, ye bubbles, burst asunder!
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