The Unbeloved

(1820)

Not a woman, child, or man in All this isle, that loves thee, C[anni]ng. Fools, whom gentle manners sway, May incline to C[astlerea]gh, Princes, who old ladies love, Of the Doctor may approve, Chancery lads do not abhor Their chatty, childish Chancellor. In Liverpool some virtues strike, And little Van's beneath dislike. Tho, if I were to be dead for't, I could never love thee, H[eadfor]t: (Every man must have his way) Other grey adulterers may. But thou unamiable object,-- Dear to neither prince, nor subject;-- Veriest, meanest scab, for pelf Fastning on the skin of Guelph, Thou, thou must, surely, loathe thyself.