is without
prejudice to the already appointed Laureate as a swan and singing bird
of the first water. All I desire is that the Public should know of
another--and, perchance, even rarer--avis, who is _nigroque simillima
cygno_, and could be obtained dog cheap for a mere song or a drug in the
marketplace, if only there is made a National Appeal to the Sovereign
that he should be promoted to such a sinecure and _aere perennius_.

As a specimen of the authenticity of my divine flatulence, please find
inclosed herewith copy of complimentary verses, written by myself on
hearing of Poet AUSTIN'S selection. Indulgence is kindly requested for
very hasty composition, and circumstance of being greatly harrowed and
impeded at time of writing by an excruciating full sized boil on back of
neck, infuriated by collar of shirt, poulticings, and so forth.

CONGRATULATORY ODE

_To Hon'ble Poet-Laureate Alfred Austin, Esq._

Hail! you full-blown tulip!
Oh! when the wheezing zephyr brought glad news
Of your judicious appointment, no hearts who did peruse,
Such a long-desiderated slice of good luck were sorry at,
To a most prolific and polacious Poet-Laureate!
For no _poeta nascitur_ who is fitter
To greet Royal progeny with melodious twitter.
Seated on the resplendent cloud of official Elysium,
Far away, far away from fuliginous busy hum
You are now perched with phenomenal velocity
On vertiginous pinnacle of poetic pomposity!
Yet deign to cock thy indulgent eye at the petition
Of one consumed by corresponding ambition,
And lend the helping hand to lift, pulley-hauley,
To Parnassian Peak this poor perspiring Bengali!
Whose _ars poetica_ (as per sample lyric)
Is fully competent to turn out panegyric.
What if some time to come, perhaps not distant,
You were in urgent need of Deputy-Assistant!
For two Princesses might be confined simultaneously--
Then, how to homage the pair extemporaneously?
Or with Nuptial Ode, lack-a-daisy! What a fix
If with Influenza raging like cat on hot bricks!
In such a wrong box you will please remember yours truly,
Who can do the needful satisfactorily and duly,
By an _epithalamium_ (or what not) to inflame your credit
With every coronated head that will have read it!
And the _quid pro quo_, magnificent and grand Sir!
Would be at the rate of four annas for every stanza,
Now, thou who scale sidereal paths afar