Classic Poem

Observe the dying father speak:
'Try, lads, can you this bundle break;'
Then, bids the youngest of the six,
Take up a well-bound heap of sticks.
They thought it was an old man's maggot;
And strove by turns to break the faggot:
In vain--the complicated wands
Were much too strong for all their hands.
'See,' said the sire, 'how soon 'tis done':
Then, took and broke them one by one.
So strong you'll be, in friendship tied;
So quickly broke if you divide.
Keep close then, boys, and never quarrel.
Here ends the fable and the moral.

The tale may be applied in few words
To treasurers, controllers, stewards,
And others, who in solemn sort
Appear with slender wands at court:
Not firmly joined to keep their ground,
But lashing one another round:
While, wise men think they ought to fight
With quarter-staffs instead of white;
Or constable with staff of peace,
Should come and make the clattering cease;
Which now disturbs the Queen and court,
And gives the Whigs and rabble sport.

In history, we never found
The consul's fasces were unbound;
Those Romans were too wise to think on't,
Except to lash some grand delinquent.
How would they blush to hear it said,
The praetor broke the consul's head;
Or, consul in his purple gown,
Came up, and knocked the praetor down.

Come, courtiers: every man his stick:
Lord Treasurer, for once be quick:
And, that they may the closer cling,
Take your blue ribbon for a string.
Come, trimming Harcourt; bring your mace;
And squeeze it in, or quit your place:
Dispatch; or else that rascal Northey
Will undertake to do it for thee:
And, be assured, the court will find him
Prepared to leap o'er sticks, or bind 'em.

To make the bundle strong and safe,
Great Ormonde lend thy general's staff:
And, if the crozier could be crammed in,
A fig for Lechmere, King, and Hampden.
You'll then defy the strongest Whig,
With both his hands to bend a twig;
Though with united strength they all pull,
From Somers down to Craggs and Walpole.