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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529927" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Expostulation to Lord King</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">How can you, my Lord, thus delight to torment all<br>The Peers of realm about cheapening their corn,<br>When you know, if one hasn't a very high rental,<br>'Tis hardly worth while being very high born?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life,<br>On a question, my Lord, there's so much to abhor in?<br>A question - like asking one, &quot;How is your wife?&quot; --<br>At once so confounded domestic and foreign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As to weavers, no matter how poorly they feast;<br>But Peers, and such animals, fed up for show,<br>(Like the well-physick'd elephant, lately deceas'd,)<br>Take wonderful quantum of cramming, you know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You might see, my dear Baron, how bor'd and distrest<br>Were their high noble hearts by your merciless tale,<br>When the force of the agony wrung even a jest<br>From the frugal Scotch wit of my Lord L-d-d-le!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright Peer! to whom Nature and Berwickshire gave<br>A humour, endow'd with effects so provoking,<br>That, when the whole House looks unusually grave,<br>You may always conclude that Lord L-d-d-le's joking!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then, those unfortunate weavers of Perth -<br>Not to know the vast difference Providence dooms<br>Between weavers of Perth and Peers of high birth,<br>'Twixt those who have heir-looms, and those who've but looms!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;To talk now of starving!&quot; - as great Ath-l said --<br>(and nobles all cheer'd, and the bishops all wonder'd,)<br>&quot;When, some years ago, he and others had fed<br>Of these same hungry devils about fifteen hundred!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It follows from hence - and the Duke's very words<br>Should be publish'd wherever poor rogues of this craft are --<br>That weavers,once rescued from starving by Lords,<br>Are bound to be starved by said Lords ever after.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Rome was uproarious, her knowing patricians<br>Made &quot;Bread and the Circus&quot; a cure for each row;<br>But not so the plan of our noble physicians,<br>&quot;No Bread and the Tread-mill&quot; 's the regimen now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So cease, my dear Baron of Ockham, your prose,<br>As I shall my poetry -- neither convinces;<br>And all we have spoken and written but show,<br>When you tread on a nobleman's corn, how he winces.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Moore">Thomas Moore</a><div class=q>
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The Peers of realm about cheapening their corn,
When you know, if one hasn't a very high rental,
'Tis hardly worth while being very high born?

Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life,
On ..."></div>
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