1   Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,      Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:   You have repaired Legitimacy’s crutch,      A prop not quite so certain as before:   The Spaniard, and the French, as well as Dutch,      Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore:   And Waterloo has made the world your debtor   (I wish your bards would sing it rather better). 2   You are “the best of cut-throats”:—do not start;      The phrase is Shakespeare’s, and not misapplied;   War’s a brain-spattering, wind-pipe-slitting art,      Unless her cause by right be sanctified.   If you have acted once a generous part,      The world, not the world’s masters, will decide,   And I shall be delighted to learn who,   Save you and yours, have gained by Waterloo? 3   I’ve done. Now go and dine from off the plate      Presented by the Prince of the Brazils,   And send the sentinel before your gate      A slice or two from your luxurious meals:   He fought, but has not fed so well of late.      Some hunger, too, they say the people feels:—   There is no doubt that you deserve your ration,   But pray give back a little to the nation. 4   Never had mortal man had such opportunity      Except Napoleon, or abused it more:   You might have freed fallen Europe from the unity      Of tyrants, and been blest from shore to shore:   And now—what is your fame? Shall the Muse tune it ye?      Now—that the rabble’s first vain shouts are over?   Go! hear it in your famished country’s cries!   Behold the world! and curse your victories!