Classic Poem

ON THE FAMINE OF 1800 .

W ITH me, enlighten'd Rose , examine
The real cause of Britain's famine:
'Tis not, believe me, in the corn,
Which amply fills the copious horn;
It is not in the reaper's hand,
Accus'd of pocketing his land;
Or in the system of device,
By middle men, to raise their price;
Nor is it in the rich, who buy,
With length of purse, the full supply.
Shall we , though Judges, fume and storm,
Extirpate only to reform?
The markets, by an odious name,
Abolish first, and then defame?
Or shall we find in Pitt and War
The secret we are looking for?
Is it in Meynell's hunting stable,
Or upon Pharaoh's raffling table?
Perhaps Newmarket is the sinner!
Perhaps 'tis an Election-dinner!
What lame decypherers are these,
To puzzle fools, and statesmen teaze!
As well suppose it in the liquors
That flush the non-residing Vicars,
Or in the female cost of dress,
Which in Eve's time could scarce be less!