THE CONGRESSMAN TO HIS CRITICS.

Well, talk, if you like; I suppose it's your way;
Each citizen, surely, should say all his say;
_I_ did just so, when I'd nothing to do;
And if _I_ felt like doing so, why shouldn't _you_!

It's republican, pleasant, and safe, to find fault;
If a man can't do _that_, why he's not worth his salt.
And never, since critics (and fleas) learned their powers,
Was a country more blest with such vermin than ours.

You've learned much about your old friend, it is said;
The farther I'm from you, the plainer I'm read!
When "one of the people" comes here to make laws,
The "people" disown him. Now, what is the cause?

You say I'm not "dignified." Well, friends--are you?
My language, my manners, are rough, it is true;
My tones, and my jokes, (since you say it,) are coarse;
But very few streams rise above their own source.

If we're all "politicians," and they are such trash
As you have declared them, why were you so rash
As to give us your votes? What! will nobody "run"
But a "mere politician?" Why, then we're undone!

Come, come--this is nonsense! Be fair, my good sirs!
Let us look at this question. Suppose it occurs
That a long, prosy speech is about to be made;