Select Poetry.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VI, Issue 372, 28 May 1856, Page 4

Select Poetry.

THE BRITISH MERCHANT PAST AND PKESEXT. There was a British Merchant in the jolly times of old, As tame of ns, in our young days, by grandfathers wero told; Ho was a man of ample means and corresponding raonld, Who throve by what he wisely bought and profitably sold. A spacious beaver hat he had, and powdered was his hair, Blue, with brass buttons, was the coat which he was wont to wear; . Encased in a buff waistcoat with his corporation fair, A chain and seals hung from his fob ; his watch he carried there. A frill'd shirt, ruffles at his wrists', and buckles in his shoes He wore, and shorts, which calves display'd as solid as his views; Henever ventured more than he was well prepared to lose And therefore all who dealt with him were certain of their dues. ' He looked upon his counting-house with pleasure and with pride, And used to live about it in the precincts of Cheapside ; There Father Thames bore wealth to him and riches on his tide, 'Twas there the British Merchant lived, and when his time came, died. But now his modern counterfeit is living like a lord. In some suburban mansion, and a style he can't afford; But, being a director of some Company or Board, By means of peculation, he replenishes his hoard. His business is to make things pleasant, cook accounts, and play, "With other people's money and his sacred trust betray, Until the bubbles burst at length—there comes a crash one day, And then'he's not forthcoming: for the knave has run away. If caught, he gets some barrister to undertake his brief, Who probably will get him off, like many other thief; And if he should convicted be, although he comes to grief, The people he has ruin'd still remain without relief. Oh! for the British Merchant of the former^ times, that conld Command, ia case of exigence, whatever sum he would, His name was held in such esteem ; so high his credit stood, And nobody required his bond—his word was thought as good. Oh! for the British Merchant that was wont to slap his chest, And jingle pockets full of gold he honestly possess'd, Whilst sentiments of probity and virtue he expressed; Where is that British Merchant now ? The Law replies Non est! . And how should things be otherwise when Noble Lords we see,

That scorn the honest trader, will, as thick as thieves can be, Hob-nob with wealthy Railway Kings, though rogues of base degree. And when their bankers come to break, 'tis no surprise to me. • Punch.