The Sun.
London, England, 1855-07-04 00:00:00

A FAMILIAR EPISTLE TO LORD

ROBERT GROSVBNOR.

And so, Lord Robert, you possess
Such Christian faith and tenderness,
That you would shed your wormwood drop
Upon the poor man's Sunday chop,
And in your saintly ardour stop
His wicked draught of malt and hop ;
Nay, even close the barber's shop,
Exclude the " broad sheet" from our sight,
And leave us in a cheerless plight.
I wonder that the hour of nine,
Which you have set up as divine,
Has spared the housemaid's pail and mop,
Or left the child his lollipop.

Perhaps, most wise and perfect Lord,
You'll fast upon the Sabbath-day,
And, leaving larder shelves unstored,
Go quietly to kneel and pray ;
Let cook and scullion have no fear
Lest duck or grouse be overdone,
And never let your coachman hear
"John, bring the carriage round at one ;"
See that no pine comes, fresh and nice,
No mullet, cool from Groves's ice ;
Above all, mind your cellar lock
Is not touched after nine o'clock,
And, if your friends should gather round,
Let no champagne nor port be found ;
Ask for no sherry at your lunch,
And have no burgundy nor punch,
But hang your "Bill" upon your walls,
And, when some noble countess calls,
Point to its text, and sternly say
"Go to your church—you know the way."

When God and Nature filled Life's measure,
The cup held goodly share of pNa‘Aire ;
Though now, by hard and worldly plan,
Some take it only when they cam.
Some sweating frames and dusty lips
Can take but short and hasty sips—
In truth they've but one day in seven
Which Labour has not snatched from Heaven ;
And, in that Heaven's holy name,
Let them preserve their human claim,
And though, perchance, some thoughtless wrong
May mark the Sabbath of " the people,"
'Tis not your harsh, imperious gong
Will call them to the sacred steeple.

You see your narrow, bigot-zeal,
Which bars and bans the poor man's meal,
Has left you sadly in the lurch,
And filled Hyde-park before the church.
You see your wisdom is not wise,
You see Religion's press-gang cries,
Aided by all your rigid laws,
Fail to enlist in holy cause.
Fools and fanatics strive and wish
To make all men sit round one dish ;
But various diets save the soul,
At least, in mercy, so we hope.
Leave something to our own control :
Give me my much-loved country stroll,
And I'll leave you " the Devil" and " Pope."

Really, my Lord, we cannot see
What the almighty use may be
Of this church-going law you'd give,
Save to bid fierce Rebellion live,
And still more cruelly destroy
The poor man's freedom, poor man's joy.
You will but bring an angry curse
Upon your head—or something worse.
One foot too many on the neck
May spring the plank of Tumult's wreck,
And spirits that have toiled and strivsn

To keep our Commerce wlic)ls in play
Mast not be goaded, pressed, and driven
Like beasts upon a market-day.

Remember, man in senate place,
That our low " Sunday-trading" crow
Forms the stout band that keeps our land
Secure and rich for " lords" like you.

Go and preside at princely board,
And ask your guests to come, we'll let them ;
But leave us bread and bear, my lord,
Bought how and when we best can get thew.

Be wise in time, for English blood,
Made bitter, will refuse to be
The serflike horde you ask, my lord,
So limy() our Sabbath fairly free.
ONE OF "THE PEOPLE."

A letter from Warsaw of the 27th ult., says :—" The
Grand Duke Michael will shortly proceed from Bialy-
sock, where he now is, to join the head-quarters of the
central army at Wilna. His elder brother, the Grand
Duke Nicholas, is at present making a tour of inspection
in Finland, and will only come here towards the middle
of next month to assume definitively the post of Chief
of thg Engineers of the western army,"