To One Out of Favor

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To One Out of Favor

Attention, Miles! You have observed, no doubt,

That General Sam Young is “fired out”;

That is to say, retired for age. Just so;

You were yourself retired not long ago⁠—

Just “cast as rubbish to the void” (for such

Is Law’s demand)⁠—alighting where ’tis much

Too cold for comfort. There you may be found

Piled up on Fame’s eternal dumping-ground.

If you’ve a memory you still can tell

Yourself how singularly hard you fell,

And no one “kissed the place to make it well.”

I know not (Mr. Root knows little else)

Why Sam should fare so better far than Nelse,

But so he did, for scarcely did he light

Ere Mr. Secretary gripped him tight,

Stood him erect, removed his coat and shirt,

And, finding on his person where it hurt,

Performed, in pity for his hapless plight,

The appropriate consolatory rite.

Miles, you are lucky! True, you’re badly bruised,

The wound administered, the balm refused;

But if too rashly you had dared to strip

Your aching back for the official lip,

Consider the temptation (none can fight it

Who has Administration teeth) to bite it!