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 Cornell University Library 
 PR 5349.S23L9 
 
 Lyrics and philippics, 
 
 3 1924 013 546 357 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013546357 
 
AND 
 BY 
 
 $. m. ii» 
 
 FEINTED 
 
 AT MIDDLE-HILL PRESS, 
 
 By James Rogers, 
 
 1859. 
 
AND 
 
 fJ ® ft % ft fli p ft <ff * , 
 
 BY 
 
 PBINTED 
 
 AT MIDDLE-HILL PRESS, 
 
 By Jambs Rogers, 
 
 I'NjE- ff-|;,y 
 
 / f 1859. J 
 
A 4k I 5 \\ 
 
fL¥*t&ag. 
 
 THE GOOD OLD ENGLISH LADY. 
 
 I will sing you an Old Song, which I've either heard or read, 
 Of a good Old English Lady, but if it should be said, 
 That I have ever met with one, like her, alive or dead, 
 The story is as false as is the Hair upon the Head 
 Of this Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 She once possessed a Heart of somewhat penetrable Stuff, 
 And cast at Youthful Gentlemen soft tender looks enough, 
 But since their feelings (not of course herself,) are grown so tough 
 She takes, instead, to Piety, and quantities of Snuff, 
 Like a Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 She says the World is growing very wicked — and begins 
 To think that every one, except Herself, is full of sins, 
 Then sits up half the night at Cards, and most devoutly grins 
 A smile of pious gratitude to Heaven — if she wins, 
 Like a Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 She often makes comparison, with self-complacent Praise 
 Of what she was, to what Girls are, in these degenerate days, 
 And vows that she is horror-struck whenever she surveys 
 Their "Waltzes, Polkas, Galoppades, and naughty flirting ways, 
 Like a Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
2 LYRICS. 
 
 The Church of Mr. Sauffleton on Sunday she attends, 
 
 "Who says, that nearly all the world are going to shocking ends, 
 
 To whose denunciations a willing Ear she lends, 
 
 And makes an application of them to her dearest friends, 
 
 Like a Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 She keeps a handsome equipage, and. drives about in state, 
 But carefully avoids going through a Turnpike gate 
 Not that she grudges paying, for her bounty is so great, 
 That some one saw her once at Church put sixpence inthe Plate, 
 Like a fine Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 For she is truly liberal to her Ornaments and Dress 
 And when some peopla call on her, with Tales of deep Distress 
 And ask for Contributions — she seldom does much less 
 Than say that though she cannot give, she wishes them success, 
 Like a Good Old English Lady ; of no particular Time. 
 
 And fearing too much sweetness might prove a cloying Drug, 
 If she makes her poor Companion's Life a somewhat weary Tug, 
 She balances asperities by extra-love to Pug, 
 That Darling, Snarling, Angel Dog, that lies. upon the Eug, 
 Of this Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
 When Death, who in his Kegiment makes every one enlist, 
 Shall take this Pious Lady off, on one thing I insist, 
 Which is that go she where she may, she '11 be extremely missed 
 By any Three who want a Fourth to take a hand at Whist, 
 Like a Good Old English Lady, of no particular Time. 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Tune — "The Dttstx Milleb." 
 
 Never were such times, 
 Every thing so polished, 
 No one hears of Crimes, 
 For they have been abolished. 
 Vice, so people say, 
 Perfectly confounded 
 Lies in Schedule A, 
 Like a Donkey pounded. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 If things seem the same 
 
 As before the Movement, 
 
 At least they 've changed their Name, 
 
 And that's a great improvement. 
 
 So let us quiet sit, 
 
 Whilst others Rob, and Rifle, 
 
 Felony is "Wit, 
 
 Murder but a Trifle. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 T' would scarcely win belief, 
 And, as to Feeling, shock it, 
 To hear him called a Thief, 
 "Who only picks a Pocket. 
 Our Sages have defined 
 These little playful actions 
 Mere symptoms of a mind 
 Addicted to Abstractions. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 Brownrigg, Cook, and Good ! 
 
 Language almost falters 
 
 When vowing that you should 
 
 Have found no H-in Halters (Altars) 
 
 For in this Age of Gold, 
 
 Liberty, and Charters, 
 
 Tou must be enrolled 
 
 Among the Blessed Martyrs. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 They stopped poor Brownrigg's breath 
 
 Because the honest Old Soul 
 
 Flogged three Girls to death 
 
 And hid them in a Coal Hole: 
 
 I'm sure there was no Sin 
 
 Or cruelty about her, 
 
 For when she crammed them in 
 
 She was no "Out and Outer." 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 Shew me in Ude's Book 
 Such a clever way as 
 That of the Great Cook 
 For dressing Mr. Pa' — as 
 TJde would himself approve, 
 And own he never boasted 
 A more complete Remove, 
 Dished, Served out, and Boasted. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 Says friendly Good, hia Guest 
 Politely thus addressing, 
 "Tis sweet in Peace to rest, 
 
LYEICS. 
 
 So I'll multiply the Blessing. 
 My love for you is such, 
 And hourly so increases, 
 That of you I'll make much, 
 And leave you all in Pieces. 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 Each Briton now maintains 
 His Privilege to Slaughter 
 Knock out his Father's brains, 
 And shoot his Wife, and Daughter. 
 If some old fashioned Dunce 
 Demands the Law's intrusion, 
 Physicians say at once, 
 'Tis "Innocent Delusion." 
 
 Never were such Times, &c. 
 
 But as to my poor scull 
 
 I wish they would trepan it 
 
 For I am far too dull 
 
 For our Improving Planet. 
 
 Some place would better please 
 
 "Where none are daily frightened, 
 
 But all live more at ease 
 
 By being less Enlightened. 
 
 Never were such Times, 
 Every thing so polished, 
 No one hears of Crimes, 
 For they have been abolished. 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 A LAMENT. 
 Tune — "The Rat-catchee's Daughter." 
 
 In days like these, when Men and Things 
 
 March on with fierce Improvement, 
 Poor Cupid mourns to find his Wings 
 "Won't flutter with the Movement. 
 For, Oh ! the cruel Law steps in 
 
 With unromantic blindness, 
 And with these words, "Too near of Kin " 
 Arrests the course of Kindness 
 
 With so few 
 
 Left to woo 
 
 What shall Women do ! 
 
 Says Mary "Oh! my heart is hot, 
 
 And burnt as with a Blister, 
 Tom wants to wed me — but must not — 
 
 I'm his Deceased Wife's Sister. 
 He daily seeks for my consent, 
 
 But fruitless quite the search is, 
 When wicked Acts of Parliament 
 Stop axing in the Churches. 
 
 Upon my word 
 I never heard 
 A Law half so absurd. 
 
 And pity, too, the Nephew's fate, 
 
 Who spends his days aggrieving, 
 Because - he's forced so long to wait 
 
 Tor what his Aunt may leave him. 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 The same moat wicked Act prevents, .„ 
 
 The wish of true affection 
 To gain her Heart and Three Per Cents, 
 By €bnjugal Connection 
 
 So he must wait 
 And mourn his fate 
 Quite disconsolate. 
 
 Oh ! may our Parliament improve, 
 
 And not allow to stand one 
 Bar between the Tender Love 
 
 Of Grand-Mother and Grandson: 
 Then Love with Law no more will clash, 
 
 And none their Passion smother, 
 But all with one harmonious hash 
 May marry one another. 
 
 Then shall we 
 
 England see 
 
 As it ought to he. 
 
 ON THE PLEASURES OP FURNISHING. 
 
 The Pastoral Poets may prate 
 Of Rural Retirement and Peace, 
 The Charms of so common a state 
 May do for a parcel of Geese. 
 In an age so enlightened as this, 
 These stupid ideas we'll drop, 
 And seek the Perfection of Bliss 
 "Within an Upholsterer's Shop ! 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 Then Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 Here's a summons that must be obeyed, 
 "Remember to show you 've a Taste, 
 And forget— there's a Bill to be paid. 
 
 But stop — for I must not neglect 
 My Orthography — have you not heard, 
 That Upholsterer is not correct, 
 But Upholder's the classical -word: 
 And mauy may safely affirm, 
 Who have tasted of Bankruptcy's Cup 
 How richly he merits the term, 
 "Who has done them so properly wp. 
 
 Then Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 Who now would in Nature delight, 
 She plays such a trumpery part; 
 For nothing about her looks right 
 Without the assistance of Art. 
 The Winds seem to Whimper and Whine, 
 Where an ill-fitting Shutter is seen, 
 And the Sun to refuse us a Shine 
 Except through a Damask Moreen. 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c. Ac. 
 
 Thus to Nature I cry, when my course 
 
 Lies through Scenes whose Sterility Shocks, 
 
 "Why hast thou so little Remorse, 
 
 And forgotten to furnish the Rocks ! " 
 
 But when she is fruitful and kind, 
 
 And the Fields with her Flowers imprints 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 Her Colours recall to my mind 
 The superior charms of a Chintz. . • 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 The dearest desire -of my breast, 
 Were I cast on some desolate shore, 
 AVould be, that I might be possest 
 Of a Carpet to cowr the floor. 
 And in Deserts unfanned by a Breeze, 
 With cheeks fast beginning to singe, 
 I would think not of Verdure and Trees, 
 But sigh for a Curtain and Fringe. 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 Sometimes I am destined to moan 
 
 When Cupid his faror withdraws, 
 
 And the Heart which I thought was my own 
 
 Is fast in an Ottoman's claws; 
 
 And the Lady declares that she should, 
 
 Before she can rashly presume 
 
 To judge if my' Company's good, 
 
 Be .better assured of my Eoorn.. 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c &e. 
 
 What rapturous feelings entrance 
 
 When with Tones that remind of a Dove, 
 
 And quite an exstatical glance, 
 
 ■She murmurs — "Oh! dear, what a Lore"'3 
 
 With equal excitement, I cry, 
 
 -'Am I the blest Person you mean" 
 
10 LYRICS. 
 
 '•X'd, Sir," is her tender reply, 
 
 "I meant, what a Love — of a Screen ! 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c &c 
 
 Our Laws, I assert ic with pride, 
 
 No honors to Furniture grudge 
 
 For we dare not on Hangings decide, 
 
 Unassisted by Jury and Judge 
 
 And I'm sure, in one Branch of our State, 
 
 It has Representation enough, 
 
 For you '11 find', when the Commons debate, 
 
 One half of them— Dealers in Stuff.! 
 
 So Ladies and Gentleman haste, 
 
 &c. &C. 
 
 See! some, by becoming a Board, 
 Their shattered Finances repair, 
 Wh^e Peace in the Senate's restored 
 By a solemn appeal t> > the Chair. 
 And the Prize most desired by those 
 Who seek no reward but renown, 
 Is being sworn in, to compose 
 A Cabinet fit for the Crown. 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 If doomed to Misfortune, or Strife, 
 I'll bear them as meek as a Mouse, 
 I seek but one Blessing in Life, 
 And that is — to furnish my House. 
 May a Tomb-Stone, attesting my worth, 
 Record to my honor, when dead, 
 
LYRICS. 1 1 
 
 "Here is one who had nothing on earth 
 
 "Ill-furnished, excepting — his Head." 
 
 So Ladies and Gentlemen haste, 
 Heres a Summons that must be obeyed, 
 Remember to show you 've a Taste, 
 And forget — there's a Bill to be paid. 
 
 ON SIR ROBERT PEEL'S RECEPTION 
 AT ABERDEEN. 
 
 Tell me the name I beg 
 
 Of that Bonnie Chiel 
 Wie his Tartan and Philibeg ? 
 
 'Tis Sir Robert Peel. 
 Oh ! Gude Sir Robert, say 
 
 Where have you been ? " 
 I have been far away 
 
 At — Aberdeen. 
 
 Wkat were you doing there ? 
 
 "I was getting Praise, 
 Getting what I've not, I swear, 
 
 Had these many days. 
 For there they washed me with a flood 
 
 Of Soap and Sawder, clean, 
 Scraping off the English Mud 
 
 At — Aberdeen. 
 
 1 am tired of the stupid South, 
 Where Farmers look so sad, 
 
12 LYRICS. 
 
 Declaring, with an angry' mouth, 
 
 That all is very bad. 
 In the clever North I feel 
 
 A change of Note, and Scene, 
 From "very bad" to "varry wcel" 
 At — Aberdeen 
 
 What did that douce and canny Man, 
 
 The Provost, say to you .? 
 "0'! he said, that I was an 
 
 Honest man and true. 
 His words were sweet, his Tongue was smooth 
 
 As his eyes were keen: 
 Provosts always speak the Truth 
 At— Aberdeen. 
 
 In the Town the joy was such, 
 
 When I showed my Pace, 
 I feel that Oxford is a much 
 
 Inferior sort of place. 
 There they'd hoot, and make a noise, 
 
 As soon as I was seen, 
 I saw no such naughty Boys 
 
 At — Aberdeen. 
 
 Gude Sir Robert, maun I speir, 
 
 Pray forgive the doubt, 
 Where will you go, if, as I fear, 
 
 Tour new Friends find you out ! 
 If they should find out, that you say 
 
 Not always what you mean, 
 Where will jou go, if you can't stay 
 At — Aberdeen. 
 
LYRICS. 13 
 
 If they do such a horrid thing 
 
 As to doubt my worth 
 
 I must cut a Highland Fling 
 
 Aud travel farther North 
 
 To the far, far North I'll go 
 
 I know no place between 
 
 And live amongst the Esquimaux 
 
 Instead of— Aberdeen. 
 
 THE CAPTIVE. 
 Tune — "Fill the BtrMPEB Faie." 
 
 Fresh Lions yearly come, 
 
 The Public Taste is pliant, 
 One year it takes Tom Thumb, 
 And swallows next a Giant. 
 But "Forty six" has got 
 
 The most uncommon Lion, 
 And serves him up quite hot, 
 His name is Smith O'Brien. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause, 
 
 Hurrah for Ireland's Lion, 
 
 Bad luck to sense, and laws; 
 
 Success to Smith O'Brien. 
 
 If a Lady should decline 
 
 To come and see him, tell her, 
 
 That he '11 soon be cool as Wine, 
 For we keep him in the Cellar. 
 
 Walk down, then, without fear, 
 And, what is most surprising, 
 
14 LYRICS. 
 
 Not only see — but hear 
 Him thus Soliloquising, 
 
 "Hurrah for Ireland's cause," 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "Och! faith,I'm trapped and watched, 
 
 And made a Blessed Martyr, 
 But I'll let them know they 've cotched 
 
 A real Irish Tartar. 
 My Country will go mad, 
 
 No mother's Son will fail her, 
 But every Irish Lad 
 
 Start up a staunch Bepaler. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "The Gem of all the Sea 
 
 Is half dissolved with weeping, 
 At a Gentleman like me 
 
 In a Saxon Blackguard's keeping 
 The best revenge,I think, 
 
 For I cannot stoop to slay him, 
 Is to take his mate and drink, 
 
 And take care — not to pay him. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "The Saxons are well placed, 
 When they to business muster, 
 
 But a Pathriot's disgraced 
 By any thing but Bluster. 
 
 I'm not the cock to let 
 A dirty Saxon Goose pull 
 
LYRICS. 15 
 
 My legs into the net 
 
 Of doing something useful. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "Confound the Spaker — Chair 
 
 Eules — Misures — Serjeants — Maces 
 No Misures are so fair 
 
 As Misures of twelve paces. 
 We'll keep our honour bright 
 
 At tame Prescriptions scorning, 
 With Whisky Punch at night, 
 
 And Pistols in the Morning. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "When our Dis-uniting might 
 
 Shall to Harmony restore us, 
 Och! Turf and Blitherumskite, 
 
 We'll drive the World before us. 
 We'll break the Saxon rod, 
 
 We'll spurn the Law's intrusion 
 And keep our Verdant Sod 
 
 Quite Sacred to Confusion 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's cause 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "When Ireland stands alone, 
 
 Won't we be mighty clever, 
 Won't happiness unknown 
 
 Eeward the Land for ever. 
 Won't we, to shew the gains 
 
 We get by Liberation, 
 
16 LYRICS. 
 
 Knock out each other's Brains 
 In Paceful Agitation. 
 
 Hurrah! for Irelauds cause, 
 &e. &c. 
 
 "Though it's glorious here to rest, 
 
 My Pathriot Zeal displaying, 
 Still I'd like that place the best, 
 
 Which I was not forced to stay hi — 
 I don't a Prison mind, 
 
 Eepalers do not doubt me, 
 But I fear the World may find 
 
 It can get on without me. 
 
 Hurrah for Ireland's cause, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 "Once out, away I'll jog, 
 
 And scorn the Speaker's Summons, 
 And I'll back an Irish Bog 
 
 Against the British Commons. 
 Should a Misshiger annoy, 
 
 Deep down in some Turf- Pit, he 
 Will know I aint the Boy, 
 To serve on a Committee. 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's Cause, 
 
 Hurrah! for Ireland's Lion, 
 Bad luck to sense, and laws, 
 Success to Smith 0' Brien." 
 
LYRICS. 17 
 
 "THE REPEALER." 
 Tune — "Groves ot Blarnby." 
 
 I'm a bold Repaler, and there's not a gentaler.. 
 . Or more wholesale daler, in Seditious Stuff, 
 And in Beautiful Spaches, inducing Braches 
 -. Of ngly^Peace, of which we've had enough. 
 For, Och! — Stimulation to Separation, 
 
 And Liberation, is my pride and joy, 
 And for bold attacks on the Bloody Saxon, 
 
 When Words alone are wanted, I'm the Boy. 
 
 Oeh ! when before ye I lay the Story 
 
 Of the Gains aad Glory ye '11 get by a Divorce, 
 Faith! your eyes would glisten, if you'd only listen, 
 
 And believe one Qaarter of what I shall discourse. 
 •No more Ploughing, or Sowing, or Reaping, or Mowing 
 
 No more Servants going, at their Masters call, 
 But of nothing else thinking, but fighting and drinking, 
 
 Sure won't we then be Gentlemen any how at all."? 
 
 We'll give a hiding to the Saxons for riding 
 
 On poor old Ireland's back ihis many a day, 
 Like Divel's Postillions, and robbing us of Millions, 
 
 W hich we're good enough to owe them, & don't intend 
 For we will be laving off all, except receaving, [to pay. 
 
 And forget the word "Debt," by gineral consint, 
 But I won't be objecting to your now and then collecting 
 
 For a Pathriot Repaler, like myself, a little Rint.. 
 
18 LYRICS, 
 
 Oeh! won't we be frisky whe.n the rivers run with Whisky, 
 
 And the purling brooks soft Buttermilk distill, 
 When a swate Diffusion of Gineral Confusion 
 
 Proclaims that Irish Pathriots are doing what Jthey will., 
 When with hands in the bottom of our Pockets, (if we've 
 got 'em,) 
 
 We'll be feeling for the Thirteens, wh,ich we. hope we 
 may find there; " 
 
 If not, we'll try another's, for, shan't we al'llie Bfothe'n ! 
 
 And nobody have nothing, and' every one a shire.? " '" ''' 
 
 Lest sad remimbrance should be a hindrance 
 
 And make the Patient soul of Ireland fret * " " , 
 Whate'er we borrow — before the morrow 
 
 The same we will be mindful to forget. 
 Then Collectors, and Excisemen, will not be very wise men, 
 
 As we fairly advertise them, if their ugly Mugs they sttdw, 
 For with good Shillalah whacks 'tis, we'll be settling all 
 the Taxes, 
 
 And give, with Pistol practice, a discharge for what 
 we owe. 
 
 Now, after such a Sarmint, you '11 be nothing else but 
 Varmint,' r r ■■ ....... 
 
 If you don't at^once.detartnme the Irish coast to clear, 
 For the sake of dis-uniting, don't mind a little fighting, 
 
 Which I take a great delight in, if it does not come too 
 But, as a bullett, flying, will take no denying, (near ; 
 
 But, in my poor Brain prying, might have a mind to stay, 
 For my own satisfaction, upon the day of Action, 
 
 Faith ! tis Myself, I think, will keep away, * 
 
LYRICS. 19 
 
 ON THE PAPAL AGGRESSION. 
 
 Oh! what can the matter be, Murder or Battery, 
 Has -the Bull broken in to the best China shop, 
 Is it Felony ? — Treason ? — Do tell me the reason, 
 For its all botheration from bottom to top? 
 Who is itf*-- — who is it? — who pays us a visit? 
 It is not the real Sea-Serpent I hope, 
 So frisky and frantic — fresh from the Atlantic? 
 Ob. ! 'tis that deeper Old Serpent the Pope 
 
 We are all in a quiver, for who shall deliver 
 From Fire a-.d Faggot — from Halter and Rope, 
 The whole English Nation, is under invasion, 
 And is going to be quickly devoured by the Pope. 
 
 Good People are crying — 'Tistime to be flying, 
 
 We're ready to go to the North or the South, 
 
 For here we are undone — The Pope is in London, , • 
 
 And staying they say at the Bull and the Mouth. . ,, 
 
 Oh ! he'll eat us, and floor us, — He'll toss us, and gore, lis, 
 
 In vain from his Clutches w'e try to elope, 
 
 For wherever we be, Sir — at Breakfast or Tea, there ■,• 
 
 Hot Water will always be served by the Pope. 
 
 We are all in a quiver — for who shall deliver, <&c. <fcc. 
 
 Oh ! he'll catch and trepan us, perhaps he'll Japan us, 
 
 And alter us so, that each person will cry, 
 
 Aa he under-goes his — new metempsychosis, 
 
 "'Tis somebody else, for it cannot be I. 
 
 Due Patience and Vigour may whiten a Nigger, 
 
 And mend his Complexion with Brushes and Soap, 
 
20 LYRICS, 
 
 But Fifty-Horse power, applied every hour, 
 Won't take off the Varnish laid on by the Pope. 
 
 We are all in a quiver, for who shall deliver, &c. Ac. 
 
 Large Hat, and Red Stocking, and all that is shocking, j, . 
 We think of by day — and we dream of by Night : , '"' ' 
 Oh ! he's a bold traitor, there can't be a greater, 
 Who dares not to be in a terrible fright. l ' q 
 
 Poor famishing Sinners won't ring for their Dinners, . '..' 
 
 They can't read a Rook, and in Darkness they Grope, ' '" " '. 
 Por no one dares handle a Bell, Book, or Candle, 
 The thought of such things so reminds of the Pope. 
 
 We are all in a quiver, for who shall deliver, Ac. Ac. " 
 
 To quell the Seditious, tell all the Militias, 
 The Clerks, and Churchwardens, to come to our aid, 
 And bid the Exciseman charge Cardinal Wiseman, 
 And feep him away till the Duty is paid. 
 My Lord Mayor have Pity, and make the whole City 
 Turn out, with this Foreign I iarauder to cope ; 
 Do not unwilling wait — Ladies of Billings-gate, 
 Help with your Tongues in defying the Pope. 
 
 We are all in a quiver, for who shall deliver, Ac. Ae. 
 
 Excuse me for saying — by way of delaying, 
 
 My Friends, your most Pious and Orthodox fear, 
 
 That I have a Receipt here — there's not a completer, 
 
 To drive the Pope off — though its rather severe. 
 
 Stick to him like Leeches — with very long speeches, 
 
 Give your Lungs, and your Tongues, and your Eloquence scope, 
 
Lyrics. 21 
 
 Let liim pass but one Week ia the hearing you Speaking, 
 And you'll not get a visit again from the Pope. 
 
 We're all in a quiver, for who shall deliver 
 From Fire and Faggot — from Halter and Rope ; 
 The whole English Nation is under invasion, 
 And is going to be quickly devoured by the Pope. 
 
 BARNEY MAGUIRE. 
 
 (On the Launch of the Windsor Castle at Pembroke 
 Dock, afterwards re-named, "The Duke of Wellington.") 
 
 Poor Barney Macguire, who's 
 Extremely desirous 
 Of seeing all Wonders from London to Cork, 
 Permission is craving, 
 That through Milford Haven 
 You'll kindly allow him to take a short walk. 
 And he cannot do less, Sir, 
 Than freely confess, Sir, 
 That what he has seen there completely outstrips, 
 With proud Emulation 
 The Great Coronation, 
 And that is the Launch of the Biggist of Ships. 
 'Tis Curious, reelly, 
 To see how Genteel}', 
 And freely, from Land into Water she slips, 
 There's nothing in Natur 
 That ever can bate her, 
 The Lligant Cratur, the Biggist of Ships. 
 
•22 LYRICS. 
 
 . This New "Windsor Castle V '"' 
 
 Has clearly surpassed all 
 The Fame of the Old one,.that stands on dry Ground,* 
 For would it not smother, 
 Or bother the other, 
 To walk through the Water without getting drowned. 
 This says to the Dry Land, 
 Politely, "Good Bye"— and 
 All over the Waves, like a Didapper, skips, 
 Sure a grave Turk, or Persian, 
 Might laugh with diversion, 
 At seeing the- Launch of the Biggist of Ships. 
 'Tis Curious, reely, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 The "Winds, so contrary, 
 
 That constantly vary, 
 Will find her too wary, so little she cares 
 
 For them, or their Bellows, 
 
 The impudeut Fellows, . -. ,. . 
 
 "When giving themselves, and- not others, their airs. 
 
 If they stop Loeo-motion 
 
 Upon the Wide Ocean, , ... 
 
 She'll serve out. Promotion to one who quite whips 
 
 The "Winds— 'tis the Stoker, 
 
 "Who'll come with-.his Poker, - 
 
 And get up the Steam for the Biggist of Ships. 
 'Tis Curious, reelly, 
 
 &C. &C, . .,.: 
 
 But when she is sailing, 
 Each Porpoise, .and Whale, in 
 A Wonder will cry, "who is coming to call? 
 If she's got Relations, 
 
lyrics. 2 3 
 
 Two : auch visitations " - • 
 
 Will make, the Wide Ocean too- small for us all. 
 
 And that Heathenish Varmint 
 
 The Famous Sea : Sarpint 
 Will scarcely detarmine— whilst licking his lips, 
 
 The delicate question, 
 
 ] f his Digestion 
 Fairly'.can deal with the Biggist of Ships." 
 'Tis Curious, reely, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 See ! how well she's obeyed all 
 Commands in the Cradle, ' ' 
 
 When ordered sbe's off, and there can't be a doubt, 
 That nothing will stop her, 
 *'■ Whilst allis so proper, 
 That her 'Mother who christened must know she is Out. 
 j .. Och ! I'm three parts delighted, 
 And just one affrighted, 
 And half my poor senses are in an Eclipse 
 ■_ r % Sd, Faith, I am thinking, 
 . ■ Tis time to be Drinking 
 Success, and Long Life, to the Biggist of Ships. 
 ; 'Tis Curious, reely, 
 ' To see how Genteely >'' -■."' 
 
 "And freely from Land into Water she slip* 
 Oh ! there's nothing in Natw 
 .;'" That ever can bate' her 
 
 The illigant Cratur, the Biggist of Ships. 
 
24 LYEICS. 
 
 On the Breaking up of LORD ABERDEEN'S 
 Government, and upon MR. ROEBUCK'S Motiou. 
 
 Tune — '-Wilukins and his Dinah." 
 
 An Omnibus lately in London waa seen, 
 
 "Which carried some Servants, who lived with the Queen. 
 So Flash a concern, that it never set down, 
 
 Or took any one up, but in Windsor or Town. 
 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
 gome say that these Servants were such a nice set, 
 That they .all pulled together whenever they met, 
 
 "Whilst others (though I don't believe it) suppose, 
 That the pull they best liked was of each other's nose; 
 Singing toohala toorala toorala la. . 
 
 Now the Coachman who drove had been young long ago, 
 And some thought him .Steady and some only Slow, 
 
 And he was assisted by a knowing lad, '■ '■'*■" 
 
 "Who once had been Coachman, but now was turned Cad. 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
 This Cad used to say, with. a very smooth face, 
 That he much preferred the inferior Place, 
 
 jLnd that, nothing on earth gave him so much delight, 
 As to stand on the footboard, and cry out, "All Eight." 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la 
 
 But he was* a deep one, who knew how to fib, 
 Ifor finding the Horses one day stand and jib, 
 
 At the sign of the Roebuck off slily he steals, 
 And pulls all the Linchpins right out of the Wheels, 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
LYRICS. & 
 
 Then, as soon as tbey started, he jumped from the Board, 
 For he likes to get others, but not himself, floored, w ' '-'■■' 
 
 And seea the poor Omnibus suddenly pitch '' - l 
 
 The Ucrvautj and iJriver slap into the Ditch. 
 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
 The Flunkey,: they swore, but the Cad said, "dou't doubt" 
 That I've made you fall in, that you may not fall out, - 
 
 And to prove that the best of you cannot .approach 
 Little John in the art of upsetting the Coach." 
 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
 Moeal. 
 Here's a warning no Omnibuc Driver should scoff, 
 Let him look to his Linchpins before he sets off, 
 And Omnibu3 lilrinnm henceforth will be mad, tftWl&w 
 Y7hen they turn off a Coachman, to keep him as Cad. 'rvJ- 
 Singing toorala toorala toorala la. 
 
 REBECCA. 
 On the -South Wales Turnpike Gate Riots in 1843. 
 generally called "Rebecca Riots." 
 
 Rebecca's Soirees extort my Praise 
 
 Her kindness never abates, 
 She goes out by night her friends to invite, 
 
 And she Axes all the Gates. 
 Oh! she is as bold, as an Amazon of old, 
 
 For it is her constant boast, . 
 A la militairs, that she can't bear. . . , .. • .-. . ., 
 
 Ever to leave a Post- 
 
26 LYRICS. 
 
 So Saw, and Smash, and out with your-Gash, 
 And never mind what's to pay, 
 
 But kick up a dust, and down with the Trust; 
 And that's your Time of Day. .... 
 
 Ilere's a valuable truth for a love-sick youth, 
 
 Who u caught by Rebecca's Charms, 
 She's a Widow, and free, as any need be, 
 
 Loth of her hands and arms. 
 But, I fear, a.: a wife, she'd trouble his life, 
 
 For she's something of a Scold, 
 And always inclined to toll her own mind 
 
 But cam iOt boar being 'JJull'd. 
 
 So Saw, and Smash, and out with your Cash 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 Rebecca haa got a charming lot 
 
 Of Daughters to bring out, 
 And thinks no place, like Bali, or Race, 
 
 So fit as a Midnight Rout. 
 Young Ladies, like these, are of course hard to please, 
 
 But still, I think, if oourted 
 By the judging Few, wkp would give them their Due, 
 
 They would be all Transported. 
 
 So Saw, and Smash, and out with your Cash 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 Now if any enquire, what there is to inspire 
 
 Dislike, or so infringes 
 On the Quiet of her nerves, when Rebecca observes 
 
 A. Gate upon all its hinges. 
 Now I'll tell you why,?'..and a truer reply 
 
 Wm never yet said, or sung, 
 
LYRICS. 27 
 
 S&e reads her Fate in a Turnpike Gate, 
 Or any thing else that's hung. 
 
 So Saw, and Smash, and out with your Cash, 
 
 And never mind what's to pay, 
 But kick up a dust, and down with the Trust, 
 And that's your Time of Day. 
 
 A WELSH ODE. 
 
 Composed foe the Eisteddfod. 
 
 My Friends, and Dear Countrymen, do not discard, 
 
 The Gong. and advice of a Patriot Bard, 
 Who wants you to listen to Cambria's praise, 
 
 To teep up old Customs, and walk in old ways, 
 So amg in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 For why should our Bodies or minds ever roam, 
 When both can be furnished so sweetly at Dome, 
 
 Why trammel our arms, like the Saxons, with Coats, 
 And not live unencumbered with Clothes, like the Goat*. 
 li'o snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 I wish you to spurn Foreign Food, Dress, and Laws, 
 To breakfast on Hips — and to dine upon Haws, 
 
 Why traffic with Sheffield, when taught by the Hawks, 
 Not to live with ten Fingers dependant on Forks,. ..." 
 So snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery". ,.,£' 
 
 And why should you sums so extravagant pay, ' - -,V 
 
 To know what one Shakespeare, or Milton, may aafo "" 
 
28 LYRICS. 
 
 When we can have, fresh from the Land of our Birth, 
 Peuilliono for nothing, and at their true worth: 
 
 Jo snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 Can Wellington with Twin Sion Catty compare, 
 
 Or%hu heroes who lived, vo one knows when or where, 
 
 And aj to comparing Lord Nelson, 'tis gammon 
 To a Celt in a Coracle, fishing for Salmon: 
 
 £o cnug in. Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 "Whenever I look at an Apple, I grieve 
 To thin!; of the Tree that ko tempted poor Eve, 
 ' And feel cho would not have been led to such freaks, 
 If, instead of the Apples, the Tree had borne Leeks: 
 Jo snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 Geologists tell.w our Land was quite free 
 From the waters, when Europe was half under sea, 
 
 Then what Deinonstratiori more clear can you wishi - 
 That we were fine Fellows, when Saxons were Fish! 
 Jo- snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 If there be amongst you one vile Saxon Knave hid, 
 Pray, knock out his brains in the name of St. David, 
 
 And our Land will, when there's not a stranger to pelt, 
 Be tho Land of perfection, the Land of the Celt, 
 £o ciiug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
 My Song would be longer, but I have my fears, 
 It wants a fit Audience with much longer Ears, 
 
 With much longer Ears to take in all my Tales, 
 And to vibrate with joy -to the Praises of Wales, ,> 
 So snug in Humbugging, and Tomfoolery. 
 
LYRICS. «» 
 
 THE FINE YOUNG INGLISH LADY. 
 2W_«The Pine Old English Gentleman." 
 
 I'll sing you a new song, if you '11 condescend to wait, 
 
 Of a fiue young English Lady, neither solemn, or sedate, 
 But one who can do every thing at a very rapid rate, 
 Sing, Dance. Quadrille, and Galloppade, and sometimes 
 
 flirt and prate, 
 Like ajine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 Her nerves <are often very weak, more often still her head, 
 So she lies, and takes pretty good Supplies of Tea and 
 
 Toast, in Bed, 
 Then comes down late to Breakfast, and is pleased to 
 
 hear it said, 
 That she must be a Sylphide, who on air alone is fed, 
 
 Like a fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 To prove her Genius the displays her Drawings, or unwraps 
 A roll of the sweetest Patterns for Bonnets, Gowns, & Caps, 
 
 Or, after much entreaty, (for she's diflident,) perhaps, 
 She'll shew you her libfcle Album full of sentimental scraps, 
 Like a fiie young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 She loves romantic incidents, if set to a soft tune, 
 And talks of Love in Lapland, whtn warm at home in June, 
 
 Or, when seated by the fire of a Winter's afternoon, 
 Avows a most astonishing affection for the Moon, 
 
 Like a fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 Her sensibility is great, and many tears distills, 
 OVr the ooirows of t oor Werter, and her milliner's long Bill*, 
 
50 LYfilCS. 
 
 And what Papa will aiiy fco them, her mind with Terrorfills, 
 For the Figures are far less pleasing than those of the new 
 
 Quadrilles, 
 To thi3 fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 She writes one Ode to Solitude, another to Despair, 
 
 And vows that Crowds, and tha -.ight of Men, is more than 
 
 her nerves can bear, 
 So of course no other motive, but exercise and air, 
 Makes her rido in the Park, at half past five, when all the 
 
 World is there, 
 Like a fine young English Lady, oue of the present time. 
 
 But, if you are her Confidante, her sorrows she unlocks, 
 And talks of Gruel Fathers, wit'a baarti as hard as rooks, 
 
 Who, while they squander Hundreds in following a fox, 
 Are deaf to the claims of Xature, and refuse an Opera Box 
 To a fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 For the Opera is so superior to a stupid Play or Ball, 
 
 And those dear Italian singers her senses so enthrall. 
 That it must be the merest Accident, if a few soft glances 
 
 [fall 
 On some well-moustachioed Dandy, who is lounging in his stall 
 From this fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
 And sometimes she will moralize, and softly sigh, "Alas! 
 How true it is that we all must fade, like the flowers 
 
 of the Grass," 
 And vowing that each moment shall in Self-improvement pass, 
 Devotes a quiet hour to Reflection — in the Glass, 
 
 Like a fine young English Lady, one of the present time. 
 
LYRICS. , 31 
 
 Now in these Employments, interpersed with Dejeuners 
 
 and Drives, 
 This excellent young Person to pass her time contrives, 
 And if all her Fair Companions thus regulate their lives, 
 Why then our fine young Gentlemen will find the best 
 
 of "Wives, 
 In the fine young English Ladies, those of the present time. 
 
 Yesterday a Cabbage of the Drum-Head Species was cut 
 
 in the Gardens of J. H PMlipps, Esq. of Williamstone, 
 
 measuring feet in Circumference, (Local Paper.) 
 
 "Tune — Groves op Blarney." 
 
 Oh ! the Groves of the "Blarney would no longer 
 
 charm ye, 
 But a poor Consarn ye would call them sure enough, 
 
 Nor worth one Parden, could you see my Garden, 
 Where grow potatoes, and sweet kitchen stuff, 
 
 Oh ! 'tis the station for fine vegetation, 
 And young plantations, Sucker, Shrub, and Shoot, 
 
 And Peach trees blooming, though they are not 
 presuming, 
 
 And far too modest to bear any fruit. 
 
 Oh ! 'tis an action of great satisfaction, 
 My feet on beds of sweet Herbs to imprint, 
 
 In full Fruition of my proud position, 
 As Lord of Thyme and Master of Mint. 
 
 And in the Alleys, oh ! should any Malice, 
 Come between Man and Wife, when walking there, 
 
Z:2 LYRIC'S. 
 
 And mate them Quarrel, they may learn a Mora?, 
 Prom seeing still an undivided Fear. 
 
 You'd be enchanted at beholding planted, 
 
 The'Bashful Carrot, blushing rosy red, 
 And long Cucumber, the lazy lumber, 
 
 A lying all day long on his Hot- Bed. 
 And there's the glory of my Grounds and story, 
 
 Whose worth beats praise and description mean. 
 So Mr Babbage may survey my Cabbage, 
 
 And find its value by his new Machiae. 
 
 Should any wonder, when they 're standing under 
 
 His Lordly Head, what makes it rise so high, 
 I'm proud to mention, t'is the kind intention 
 
 Of helping Nature brushing clean the sky. 
 For which, a share he has of her great Dairy, 
 
 Though faint with Crame he's paid, but mere Sky-blue, 
 Nor will he let her long remain his Debtor, 
 
 Since every evening he receives his Dew. 
 
 If for dissection you 've a Predilection, 
 
 And would inspect his great Anatomy, 
 You'd say his juices did exceed the Wluices, 
 
 "Which save all Holland from going out to Sea. 
 So thick his shade is, that 'twill keep a Lady's 
 
 Complexion safe from fiery sun and moon, 
 And be a shelter, where no storm can pelt her, 
 
 When "drinking Tea" there of the afternoon. 
 
 But now. see muster an admiring cluster 
 Of Swine, and other Contemplative Bastes, 
 
 Who show their Laming, by discourse consaming • 
 What most would please their individual tastes. 
 
LYRICS. 33 
 
 One Pig is ■wishing, they may not be dishing 
 
 His Comely person with the dirty Peans, 
 But hopes, when salted, he may be exalted, 
 
 And served as Bacon to his Worship's Greens, 
 
 The Ox advances with contemptuous glances, 
 
 And Lordly indignation in his face, 
 And says, "you Blackguard, stay in Sty, or Haggard, 
 
 For here you are entirely out of place. 
 I am much mistaken, if it is with Paeon 
 
 The King of Greens would combination seek, 
 ■When he'll gain double honor, if I'm Bubble, 
 
 And sing a Second to his First, as Squeak. 
 
 But now the Cabbage, getting rather savage, 
 
 Says ' This same noise a'int decent, or well bred, 
 If you're not quiet, I must end the Biot 
 
 By a Court Martial, held on my Drum Head. 
 His aspiration for Publication 
 
 In Leaves of mine the Pig shall not fulfil, 
 And let North meet South 'ere the Bull and Mouth, there, 
 
 Shall sing with me the Great Green Alan and Still." 
 
 And now is there not any Professor, here, of Botany, 
 
 "Who knowt all Cabbages, by Xature, and by Name, 
 To tcke up my Song and mend it, for I myself must end it, 
 
 Since I am quite tired with hammering on the same. 
 And Ch! I'd be delighted, if you'd think yourselves 
 invited 
 
 To come to My House, and see this Paree shew, 
 Which, you'd all be agreeing, was a sight worth th« 
 seeing, 
 
 Only — it waa cut down six months ago ! 
 
34 LYRICS. 
 
 WHIST. 
 
 Tune — "There's nae luc/c about ihe House.*' 
 
 I have roamed the wo:ld for Pleasure, 
 
 But it came not at my call, 
 And I have vainly sought the treasure 
 
 At Opera aud Ball. ; 
 
 And this is the conclusion 
 My lieason can't resist, 
 All pleasure is Delusion, 
 Except a. Game at Whist. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, 
 For Sunshine, Moon, or Mist, 
 For Day, or Night, so I have light 
 Enough to play at Whist. 
 
 I love to see, in soleim State, 
 
 Four grave Professors meet, 
 Who waste no time in dull debate, 
 
 Like Men in Downing Street. 
 Each careful not a word to say, 
 
 Lest partners should revoki, 
 For they know their business is to Play,. 
 
 And such Pliy is no Joke. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, &c. 
 
 Should little murmurs reach your ears, 
 
 Or rough remai k . arise, 
 And make you fear a quarrel near, 
 
 Don't trust your ears or eyes. 
 For how disputes should intervene, 
 
 I cannot unders-and, * 
 
LYRICS. 36 
 
 Between four People, who are seen 
 To sit with Hand in Hand. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, &c. 
 
 If Chartists in our Streets are seen, 
 
 Or Kebels wildly rave, 
 There's peace at "Whist, where King, and Queen, 
 
 Can always beat the Knave. 
 And at the Cards we sellom swear, 
 
 For what would be the use, 
 Of saying, "the Deuce take them," where 
 
 Every one can tak j the I )euce. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, &c. 
 
 In that delighted Lady's face, 
 
 When fortune smiles upon her, 
 The Soul of Chivalry I trace, 
 
 She prizes so her Honor. 
 But ah ! some feelings of regret 
 
 With satisfaction mix, 
 When I find, though fond of Honors, yet, 
 
 She'd rather win by Tricks. 
 
 So what care 1, for Wet, or Dry, &c. 
 
 Lord Kglinton's best Knights must feel, 
 
 Whilst envy strikes them mute, 
 That not their brightest Coat of Steel 
 
 Can match our Diamond Suit. 
 We fight all night, yet none the worse, 
 
 For all escape disaster, 
 When Points can only pierce the Purse, 
 
 And Cutting needs no plaster. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, &c. 
 
30 LYRICS. 
 
 The wisest of Physiciana* 
 
 Whose name will long endure, 
 Prescribed, for all Conditions, 
 
 A Rubber, as a Cure. 
 And thinking more Prescribing wrong, 
 
 If Practice is not taught. 
 With his Bills hp plays a game at Long, 
 
 With his Practice, Lives at S lort. 
 
 So what care I, for Wet, or Dry, &e* &<.•. 
 
 The Youth, by frantic Love possest, 
 
 May talk of Flames, and Darts, 
 And swear he's Master of the Best, 
 
 So of course the .Ace of Hearts. 
 But the Heart of no fond lover 
 
 With such Palpitation jumps, 
 As mine, when I discover 
 
 That I've got the Ace of Trumps. 
 
 So what care I for Wet, or Dry, Ac. Ac. 
 
 When age shall sap my feeble frame, 
 And strength, and health get slack, 
 I still can find at Lome my Game, 
 
 And Hunt with my own Pack. 
 And when seated at my Kubber, 
 
 Oh ! I'll not be afraid 
 Of a Chartist with a Club, or 
 A. Sexton with a Spade. 
 
 So what care I for Wet, or Dry, 
 For Sunshine, Moon, or Mist, 
 For Day, or Kight, so I have light 
 Enough to play at Wbist. 
 
LYRICS. „ 37 
 
 WEDDING SONG. 
 Tune — "Fill the Bumper Pair." 
 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, 
 
 Let the Glasses jiugle, 
 Half, and Half we'll drain, 
 
 Nothing now is Single. 
 See the Fast ones run, 
 
 See the Slow ones carried, 
 All, both Old, and Young, 
 Going to be Married. 
 
 fciing a Marriage Strain, 
 
 L.'t your Glasses jingle, 
 Half, and Half we'll drain, 
 Nothing now is Single. 
 
 O'Connell now would feel 
 
 In a bhoeUing passion, 
 For t'is vain to preach Repeal, 
 
 "\A hen Union's so in fashion. 
 Neuters even drop 
 
 Their former appellation, 
 And run to Hymen's shop 
 
 For soft Concatenation. 
 
 Sii:g a Marriage Strain, &c. &e. 
 
 All Looks, here below, 
 
 Wear Love s Magic traces, 
 Clo.'ks. and Watches show 
 
 Something J." oving in their Faces. 
 But Time forbids, their Banna,' 
 
 Disputing Hymen's power, 
 
38 LYEICS. 
 
 And says, '*Dou't give your Hands, 
 For .you '11 want them every Hour. 
 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, &c. &e. 
 
 Cupid brags, and boasts, 
 
 That nothing says to him "Nay," 
 Spits wound the Hearts of Roasts, 
 
 Smoke-Jack flirts with Chimney, 
 Fire-Irons do not wait, 
 
 But tumble soon in Love all, 
 Fender grins at Grate, 
 
 And Pokei- smirks at Shovel. 
 
 Sing a Marriage Song, &a. &a. 
 
 Cheesf s can't escape 
 
 The tender passion sharing, 
 They go through many a Scrape, 
 
 Before there is much Paring. 
 One Couple I must praise, 
 
 Who sounder notions foster, 
 And live, from earliest days, 
 
 A steady Double Glos'ter 
 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, &C. Stc. 
 
 Some with Love seem drunk; 
 
 For, an Oil-Skin Cover 
 Took an old Hair-Tiunk 
 
 As her accepted Lover. 
 How he stormed, and raged, 
 
 When after him she ran, to 
 Say she was engaged 
 
 To a smart Portmanteau, 
 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, &e. &a. 
 
LYRICS. 3# 
 
 Of a Table's Charms 
 
 A (''hair enamoured rushes, 
 Crying, "In my Arms 
 
 Hide your Modest blushes." 
 "Can you, Sir, Mistai.i 
 
 The burthen." says the Table, 
 "Because, if you are Cane, 
 
 I am sure you are not Able." 
 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, &c. &e. 
 
 And now I must intrude 
 
 A wish in this last stanza, 
 And I will so conclude, 
 
 My Extravaganza. 
 May each M an love his Wife, 
 Each Wife be never jealous, 
 United both for lite. 
 
 Like a pair of Tongs, or Bellows. 
 Sing a Marriage Strain, 
 Let the. glasses jingle, 
 Half, and Half we'll drain. 
 Nothing, now, ia Single. 
 
 THE RLSPECIABLE MAN. 
 
 Through life would you easily glide. 
 Or start for the Sweepstakes of Fame, 
 
 "Believe me you never can ride, 
 Such a Capital Horse as a Name. 
 
tv 4 o ■-- LYRICS. 
 
 And if there be one to surpass 
 All others that ever yet ran, 
 
 Like Eclipse, in a Match with an Ass, 
 'Tis the 'Highly Respectable Man.* 
 
 Don't ask me, Ibeg. to explain; 
 
 The order I cannot obey; 
 What meaning the words may contain, 
 
 I have not the presumption to say: 
 But I know that no Rogue's at a loss, 
 
 If he has but the moral Japan, 
 The plumage, and exquisite Gloss, 
 
 Of the 'Highly Respectable Man.' 
 
 There is Mr. Bamboozle, whose ways 
 
 All those who dsal with him beivitc'a, 
 Each goes away poor, whilst he stays 
 
 Of course most unconsciously rich. 
 If I should presume to suspect. 
 
 The answer is "Oh ! Sir, how can 
 Tou dare one bad thought to connect 
 
 With that 'Highly Respectable Man.' 
 
 Captain Do'em-all, clever, and smart, 
 
 With an innocent smile on his face, 
 Has a, very particular art 
 
 Of playfully Cutting an Ace. 
 If I wish young beginners to warn, 
 
 Lest he the unwary trepan, 
 All cry, "Imputations we scorn 
 
 On that 'Highly Respectable Man.' 
 
 There is Mr. Softsawder, 'tis said. 
 And it's hard to refute it, contrives. 
 
LYKICa 41 
 
 By his skillful arrangements, to wed 
 Quite a Turkish assortment of Wive*. 
 
 But the Ladies, attesting his worth, 
 "With a Blush, that half fires a Fan, 
 
 Cry "If there's an Angel on Karth, 
 'Tis that Highly Respectable Man." 
 
 Some-times, when T venture to buy, 
 
 And a Bill for the payment is sent. 
 Where 1 find all the charges too high, 
 
 By nearly five hundred per Cent. 
 
 I am told • Sir. I take it quite ill 
 That the items you venture to scan. 
 
 Low Charges become not the Bill 
 Of a "Highly respectable Man.' 
 
 To my rather obdurate mind 
 
 'Tis really quite a relief. 
 "When-ever 1 happen to find 
 
 A thorough professional Thief, 
 Of such 1 am not much afraid, 
 
 But should tremble, if once he began 
 To quit his old Tricks, for the Trade 
 
 Of a -Highly Bespectable Man.' 
 
 And now, since my Bhapsody ends, 
 
 ] hope that you are not too nice 
 To take, iu the shape of amends, 
 
 A small piece of wholesome advice: 
 If the right from the i\ rong you'd divide, 
 
 And sift it. like flour from bran, 
 Put it quite on the opposite side 
 
 Of the 'Highly Bespectable Man.' 
 
-j2. LYRICS. 
 
 THE FREKCH REVOLUTION; 1848. 
 2\me — "The King of tus Cannibal Islands. 1 ' 
 
 Ourselves— Our noble Selves we'll praise, 
 
 For getting up such glorious Days, 
 And shewing the W orld the best of ways 
 
 To mend a Constitution 
 We told our King— old Louis Philippe, 
 
 We're wide awake — you're fast a-ileep. 
 And though you think yourself so deep, 
 
 You are not the Shepherd for such fast Sheep: 
 For we'll do nothing, but cry "Vi&tbire, 
 
 Chanter — Changer — Manger — Boire, 
 What fine supplies of Gammon, and CHoire, 
 Are got by a Revolution. i 
 
 We'll force all Tyrants to resign, 
 
 Who wont allow the people to dine, 
 And teach the world— by drinking Wine,- 
 
 To mend a Cousti ution. 
 We'll give the Conge to Guizot, 
 
 And say to Odillon Barrott, 
 •'The pace our watches have learnt to go, 
 Make all your movements much too slow, 
 
 For we'll do nothing, but cry " Victoire," *c. 
 
 A bright example we will set, 
 
 That none at another's loss should fret, 
 For to keep what we get, and pay no Debt,. 
 Is to mend the Constitution. 
 
LYRICS. 43 
 
 And to prove that a Frenchman's soul's above 
 
 111 Will, and as gentle as a Dove, 
 If away the English workmen we shove, 
 
 We'll keep their Money to prove our Love. 
 
 For we'll do nothing, but cry "Victoire," *c. 
 
 As we want Supplies, we should think it strange 
 
 If y.u object to what we arrange. 
 As a very Charming mode of i xchauge, 
 
 To mend our Constitution. 
 You shall give us your Money, and take our thanks, 
 
 If not, yon may quit the Patriot itanks, 
 And we'll shew you 3oine p etty National Pranks, 
 By taking French leave, and your Cash in the Banks. 
 For we'll do no:hing, but cry " Yictoire," &c. 
 
 If any of Sense, and Justice, prate, 
 
 We'll force such things to Abdicate, 
 They do not suit our improving State, 
 
 Which mends its Constitution. 
 We will make it appear, as clear as the Moon, 
 Ti at Nations must dance to another Tune, 
 As Monsieur Arago will find very soon, 
 By laws discovered in the Moon. 
 
 For we'll do nothing, but cry "Victoire," &c. 
 
 And now we'll try, and count the Gains 
 
 We've got by taking so much pains, 
 And blowing out each others Brains, 
 
 To mend a Constitution. 
 Hegation's Triumph is complete, 
 
 For we've nothing to do, but to walk in the street, 
 
44 LYRICS. 
 
 With no Clothes on our Backs, ho Shoes on our Feet, 
 Wiih Nothing to Diiuk, and Nothing to Eat; 
 
 And though we shout, and cry, "Victoire," 
 'lis Ctiauger, without any Mauger, Boire, 
 For mo e supplies of Gammon, than Qioire, 
 Aie got by a Revolution. 
 
 THE DESERTED PARISH, 
 Tune—" ' 
 
 We send you a Humb'e Petition, 
 
 "We hope you won't take it amiss, 
 For never was yet the Condition 
 
 Of any poor Parish like this. 
 "We've not a Parson a-near us, 
 
 To tell us a Stick from a Star; 
 To keep our poor heads straight, and cheer us, 
 By saying what Sinners we are. 
 
 And 'tis Oh! Dear, we must enquire, 
 
 Oh! dear, what we're to do, 
 If you will not come any nigKer, 
 Or the Parish go nigher to you." 
 
 The Lanib may lie down with the Leopaid, 
 The Mice with the Kitten may play, 
 
 But the Sheep, that have not got a Shepherd, 
 Must be in a very bad way. 
 
 The Parson, who goes from his people, 
 And leaves his poor flock in the lurch, 
 
LYRICS. •** 
 
 Is just all tlie same as the Steeple 
 A-walking away fi om the Church. 
 
 Ami 'tis, Oh ! Dear, we must enquire, &e. 
 
 We are like an old Coach, full of Cracks, all 
 
 Cur \\ htelc are beginning to Crea&, 
 With no Oil, and with no Patent Axle, 
 
 To make them run ou for the week. 
 Though t.u B.idy may take a fair polish, 
 
 Wu.n scrubbed oa a Saturday night. 
 If y -u won't light the Lamps of our Knowledge, 
 
 Oh! how can the Guard say "All right." 
 
 And 'tit., Oa ! Dear, we must enquire, &c. 
 
 When the Parson's not ready for Lovera, 
 
 They get rather awkward to please, 
 And e.ich, before Marriage, discovers 
 
 There's time for a bit of a Breeze. 
 They live, then, like two empty Barrells, 
 
 Quite void of all Spuit, and Striie; 
 For tliey ve skimintd off the Cream of their Quarrel* 
 
 B^ioie they are made Jian, and Wife. 
 
 And 'tis, On! Dear, we must enquire, &c. 
 
 And now, we must beg you to listen 
 
 To what would put Saints ia a rage, 
 Before the poor Iniants we christen, 
 
 They 're very near dead of Old Ago. 
 All's as slow as a man who is wherried 
 
 Against a foul wind, and strong tide, 
 For we wait such a time to be Buried, 
 
 We 'had almost as soon not have Died- 
 
 And 'tis, Oh! Dear, we must enquire, &t. 
 
*« LYRICS. 
 
 And now, Sir, we hope that this letter ' .* 
 
 Won t leave yo.i tae lesi or a Friend, 
 Becflufae ycu fii d nothing that's better 
 Than Compliments put at the End. 
 But no one knows better, than you, the 
 
 Reason wny such u the Case, 
 We cau''t send you our Service, and Duty, 
 For you give us none in the Place, 
 
 And 'tis, Oh ! Dear, we must enquire. 
 
 Oh ! dear, what shall we do, 
 If you will not come any nigher, 
 Or the Parish go nigher to you. 
 
 SIR ROBERT PLTL. 
 Tune— "Locy NiAL." 
 
 L was bred in a Protection School, 
 
 And always taught to feel, 
 That there was no one tit to rule, 
 
 Except Sir Robert Peel. 
 For he shewed such deep affection 
 For our Mutton, B.-ef, and Veal, 
 That I said "If there's Perfection 
 Xn the AVorld, 'tis Robert I eel, 
 
 Oh ! Sir Robert Peel, Oh ! Sir Robert fceel, 
 
 Whiii y u were voting by my side," 
 Bow happy did I feel. 
 
 When flrightv orCobden, made a speech, '' 
 1 im&^a^od'mf Heel, * 
 
LYRICS, .i*7 
 
 And said, "I've left a match for eatih .a 
 
 In good Sir Kobert Peel." 
 For no one fights for all the rights 
 Of our Flour, and Barley Meal, 
 And fondly doats on native Oats, 
 Like dear Sir Kobert Peel. 
 
 O.i ! sir Koberc Peel ; Oh ! Sir Eobert Peel: 
 \Y hea you were voting by my side, 
 ... How happy did I feel. 
 
 One Morn there came some horrid News, 
 
 It almost made me reel. 
 That poor Protection's Ships, and Crews, 
 
 Were cat by Kobert Peel. 
 So, 'stead of swimming with the Flood, 
 
 1 flounder like an Eel; 
 For I'm lei't sticking in the mud 
 By sly v ir Kobert Peel- 
 On ! Sir Kobert Peel; Oh! Sir Eobert Peel: 
 
 You've cue, and shuffled all the Pack, 
 And made a horrid Deal. 
 
 I don't know what he's thinking, 
 But the wound he cannot heal, 
 For my Kents, my Kents, are sinking 
 
 On account of Kobert Peel; 
 And wlien 1 get from bad to worsa, 
 
 And am torced to pick, and steal,' ; -'■■ 
 111 say 't ain't I, voc prigs the Puraa, 
 But 'tis Sir Eobert Peel. < ' : ' ^ - '-' - 
 Oh! Sir Eobert Peel; Oh! Sip Eobert' Peel: 
 
 I shall to you owe one good turn, 
 'When I'm on the Tread-Wheel. 
 
^.48 
 
 LYRICS. 
 
 THE VICTIM. 
 Tune— "The Fairest Fioweb." 
 
 I'm a very harmless mm, 
 
 Who do the beat I can 
 Not to give the World pretence 
 
 To take the least oilVnce; 
 So I really do not know 
 
 Why the Ladies urn me so, 
 That I am forced, a^.unst my Will, 
 
 To dauce in a Qaad.ille. 
 
 A Little Quad, ille, a quiet Quadrille, 
 A little, very far from merry, quiet Quadrille. 
 
 I'm not at all at ease, 
 
 When dancing the Trenise, 
 And look a perfect fool, 
 Advancing in La I'oule, 
 .. A ad. as to. the Ete, 
 
 Why, all that I ca 1 say 
 la, (i I feel e'en Simmer chill. 
 When it comes in a Quadrille. 
 
 A Little QuadiiLie, a quiet Quadrille, &c. &c. 
 
 By the Lancers 'tis my luck 
 
 To be the first that's stuck, 
 And though my feelings bleed, 
 
 To siop I can't succeed. 
 I eay "I don't know how;" 
 
 SStill the Laiies won't allow 
 Me to go away, until! 
 
 They have finished the Quadrille. 
 
 A Little Quadrille, a quiet Quadrille, &c. Ac. 
 
LYRICS. 49 
 
 I submit to Ladies cliarms 
 
 "Without a Ghaine de Dames, 
 And, their merits well to weigh, 
 
 Don't want to "Balancer," 
 But their Chassees I must blame, 
 
 And wish they would find game 
 Else-where to hunt, and kill, 
 
 But not in a Quadrille, 
 
 In a Little Quadrille, a quiet Quadrille, Ac. 
 
 And oh ! when 1 am dead, 
 
 With a Tombstone at my head, 
 An Inscription there you'll view 
 
 Of H. D. O. A. Q. 
 If you'd know what this may mean, 
 
 And what should come between, 
 The spaces you may fill 
 
 With, "He died of a Quadrille:" 
 
 Of a Little Quadrille, a quiet Quadrille, 
 A Little, very far from merry, quiet Quadrille, 
 
 THE DUTY OP MAN. 
 Time — 
 
 The lesson that I give, 
 If any one holds cheap, he'll 
 
 Find he cannot live, 
 
 Or die with decent. People. 
 
 Tour business, all, if Old, 
 Young, or Children in your Frocks, is 
 
50 LYRICS. 
 
 In one short Precept told, 
 
 Which is — "Preserve the Foxes." 
 The way to cure all Woe, 
 
 And baffle Fortune's shocks, is 
 Singing Tally Ho— 
 
 And "Preserving Foxes.'*" ' 
 
 "Dies sit, aut Nox," 
 
 Keep constantly repeating, 
 • Man was made to save the Fox, 
 
 And the Hounds were made to eat him. 
 No care the conscience clogs 
 
 Of* one who never mocks his 
 Duty to the Dogs, 
 
 But lives "Preserving Foxes." 
 
 The way to cure all Woe, &c. &c. 
 
 If you this solemn claim 
 
 Should wickedly neglect, you 
 Will hear the Dogs bark "Shame," 
 
 And the Puppies won't respect you — 
 Tou may in Woe find Mirth, 
 
 In Pillory, or Stocks, Ease, 
 But you won't find Peace on Earth, 
 
 If you don't "Preserve the Foxes." 
 
 The way to cure all Woe, &c. &c 
 
 Then take care not to swerve, 
 
 And to my Text prove fickle, 
 For those who won't Preserve, 
 
 "We have a Kod in i^ckle. 
 We'll excommunicate, 
 
 For, -of all Htterodoxes, 
 
LYRICS. • 51 
 
 There's no one half so great 
 As not ''Preserving Foxes." 
 
 The way to cure all Woe, &c. &c. 
 
 Ye small Boys, in whose looks 
 
 Learning sees no Lovers, 
 You may burn your Books, 
 
 If you will keep the Covers; 
 Let other Histories go, 
 
 Like Gibbon's, Hume's, or Coxe's, 
 And give all thoughts below 
 
 To "Preserving Pox's." 
 
 Ihe way to cure all "Woe, &c. &c. 
 
 Of crimes to think 'tis sad, 
 
 Like Burning, Murder, Stealing; 
 Who does all these is Bad, 
 
 But, still, may have Human Peeling. 
 But He cannot hope to win 
 
 Any sympathy, who knocks his 
 Head against the Sin 
 
 Of "not Preserving Poxes." 
 
 The way to cure all Woe, &c. &c. 
 
 Let the Pox live on your land, v , ; 
 
 And We are not unwilling 
 To let you try your hand 
 
 At any kind of killing: .vii? 
 
 You may cut up Children, Wires, 
 
 Or shut them up in boxes, 
 Take, if you pl<3...-,e, their lives, 
 
 But oh ! 'Preserve the Foxes." 
 
 Ike way to cure all Woe, &o. .&c. 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 And now "Long live the Queen," 
 And may no Foes un-nerve her, 
 That is, of course we mean, 
 If She's a good Preserver. 
 But the Army, Church, and Crown, 
 
 The Commons, Peers, and Proxies, 
 Must certainly go down, 
 
 If they don't "Preserve the Foxes." 
 The way to cure all Woe, 
 
 And baffle Fortune's shocks, i» 
 Singing Tally Ho — 
 
 And "Preserving Foxes." 
 
 THE COMMISSIONERS. 
 Time— Judy O'Callaghan, 
 
 At two o'Clock one day, 
 
 With aspect sad, and frowning, 
 Some men were seen to stay 
 
 In the charming Street of Downing. 
 And at the Treasury door, 
 
 That Temple of enjoyment, 
 Were thus heard to implore 
 For a little paid employment. 
 "Don't say, Nay," 
 
 To your poor Petitioners, 
 Only pay, 
 And make us all Commissioners. 
 
LYBICS. 53 
 
 A precious set are we, 
 
 Well worthy' your commanding, 
 Lawyers without a fee, 
 
 And all of six years standing. 
 The Public seems to know 
 
 How much it will be a gainer, 
 If off with Eeports we go, 
 
 By giving us no Retainer. 
 
 Don't say, Nay, &c. &o. 
 
 A Body as well might stay 
 
 Without its Food, or Eaiment, 
 As we face Quarter Day, 
 
 If it does not bring us Payment, 
 These kind words we beseech, 
 
 To charm our ravished Senses, 
 "Five Guineas a day to each, 
 
 And his Travelling Expenses." 
 
 Don't say, Nay, &c. &c. 
 
 Don't fear that we'll stick fast, 
 
 Qurselves we greatly natter, 
 If, so long as payments last, 
 
 We don't find subject Matter. 
 Wherever we turn our eyes, 
 
 We find Enquiry courted, 
 And all, beneath the skies, 
 
 Going wrong if not Eeported. 
 
 Don't say, Nay, &6. &c. 
 
 The Dogs they bark, ahd bite, 
 Engaged in constant quarrela, 
 
54 LYRICS. 
 
 Because w do not write, 
 "Reports upon their Morals. 
 
 And even the little Cats, :; , . 
 
 To Hullah'a indignation, 
 
 Sing Sharp upon the. Flats, 
 Prom want of Investigation^ 
 
 Don't say, Nay, &.c. ,&e. 
 
 Of every thing, small, and great, 
 
 Man, Ben st, Bird. Insect, Fish, on 
 Past, Present, and future state, 
 
 Pray, issue a Commission. — 
 On the Army, Navy, Church, 
 
 Schools, Bates, Tithe3, Taxes, Rental, 
 On the proper supply of Birch, 
 
 A Matter fundamental. 
 
 Don't say, Nay, &c. &c. 
 
 We can dress, any Fact, 
 
 And give it quite a True look, 
 As soon as if s neatly packed, 
 
 And served up in a Blue Book. 
 In style we most succeed, 
 
 And nothing can be-nicer, 
 For all the world might read, . 
 
 AnxL nobody be the wiser.., 
 
 Don't say, Nay, ifcc. &e. 
 
 Some people once, 'tis said, 
 
 For Truth 'were always 'striving., 
 And followed wherever it led; ,, 
 
 But; fei;; was foolish driving. 
 
-TMtlCS. 55^ 
 
 la a well-Commissioned niiiflS, " 
 
 Smell pFactice merits laughter, "*' J 
 Conclusions, first, we find, 
 
 And Facts to proye them, after. 
 Don't say, Nay, &c. &c. 
 
 "Would you have; whit-'s wrong, look right, 
 
 Our zeal will not geb slacker; 
 "We'll prove that Black is "White, 
 
 Or that White is rather Blacker. 
 So, speak us fair, and smooth, 
 
 Our Terms are worth your Trying, 
 A Penny a Line for Truth, 
 
 And a Farthing more for Lying. 
 Don't cay, Nay, &e. &.c. 
 
 Oh ! you sit there in full pride 
 
 Of Treasury Bills, and Dockets, 
 And let us stand outside, 
 
 To ii2<j id. in -oifpty Pockets. 
 But, allies you. rh:l remain 
 
 To us, year Fond Imjjlorers, 
 To-morrow we'll cone again, 
 And be your constant Borers. 
 
 Don't say, Nay, ■■> ,. • * 
 
 --•■ ■ To' your poor Petitioners, 
 Only Pay, 
 And make m &U Commissioners. 
 
&.i LYRICS. 
 
 THE CHARTISTS. 
 Tune — Yankey Doodle. 
 
 As all enlightened People see, 
 That, now, the only Artists 
 To make them Happy, Wise, and Free, 
 
 Are thorough-goijig Chartists. 
 Pray stop, and listen to my speech, 
 You've nothing more to care for, 
 Except to Bluster, Fight, and Screech, 
 Not asking why, or wherefore. 
 
 So, come, my Friends, and all you've got, 
 
 And all you hope for, barter 
 For, no one knows exactly what, 
 Except, 'tis called "The Charter." 
 
 Our Country's struck on Order's Rock, 
 
 Where Sense, and Justice maul it, 
 So must be taken into Dock, 
 
 That we may over-haul it. 
 To sheath its Iieel, and make it pass 
 
 Unharmed by such a stopper, 
 The Chartists will find lots of Brass, 
 
 Although they 're short of Copper. 
 
 So, come, my friends, and all you've got, &c. 
 
 0nr Noble minds have quite outgrown 
 
 The need of Schools, or Co'lege, 
 For, when they 're greater than our own, 
 
 We'll banish Art, and Knowledge. 
 
LYRICS. . „ 57 
 
 For "Books there can be no excuse, 
 
 We'll burn all, as we find them, 
 The only Thoughts we like are loose, 
 
 And who shall dare to bind them. • 
 
 So, come, my iriends, and all you've got, &e. 
 
 We'll make the Army, Law, and Crown, 
 
 Take oft' each Bit, mid :3ridle, 
 We'll turn Precedence upside down, 
 
 And claim the ilighest Title 
 For, far, and wide, our Patriot School, 
 
 All Kings, and Queens, rebuffing, 
 Declares, "there's no one fit to rule, 
 
 Except a iia^amuffiu " 
 
 iSo, come, my friends, and all you've got, &c. 
 
 We'll read the Riot Act to Sense, 
 
 Commanding its, dispersion, 
 Let nothing stay rive minuter hence, 
 
 That cannot prove Inversion. 
 Let Children, doing what they please, 
 
 From Chains Parental slipping, 
 Make Fathers \)3g. upon their knees, 
 
 To be excused a '..'hipping. 
 
 So, come, my friends, and all you've got, &c. 
 
 Now, all must quit their former parts 
 
 To spread the Chartists Praises, 
 The Gentlemen shall draw in Carts, 
 
 The Horses sit in Chaises. 
 With Joints, on tyrant Butcher's Hooks, 
 
 We'll fraternise, to free them, 
 While Legs of Mutton roast the Cooks, 
 
 Or Chickens fricassee, them. 
 
 So, come, my friends, and all you've got, See. 
 
58 LYRICS. 
 
 Too long deprived of Nature's Right, 
 
 The mis-named Brute-Creation 
 Shall, basking in the Charter's Light, 
 
 Enjoy Emancipation. 
 See Geese, with Patriots allied, 
 
 Exchange a friendly greeting, 
 Whilst Asses gracefully preside 
 
 At every Public Meeting ! ! 
 
 So, come, my friends, and all you've got, Ac. 
 
 The Charter's Points that all may know, 
 
 And prove its good Condition, 
 "We'll forge a Million Names, or so, 
 
 To swell our Grand Petition. 
 If vile Detractors would disjoint 
 
 It's moral force by prying, 
 We must stick in another Point, 
 
 The Privilege of Lying. 
 
 So, come, my friends, and all you've got, &c. 
 
 And now, that Equal Rights may wreathe 
 Our Brows, and burst our Fetters, 
 
 We'll keep them down, who are beneath, 
 And level all our Betters. 
 
 These words we read, and want no more, 
 Upon the Charter's Sign- Post, 
 
 "Knock all those down, who are above, 
 The Devil take the Hindmost." 
 
 So, come, my Friends, and all you've got, 
 
 And all you hope for, barter 
 For, no one knows exactly what, 
 Except, 'tis called the Charter. 
 
LYRICS. 59 
 
 Tune — Nelly Bmgh. 
 
 Says Eowland Hill "the "Welsh are Scamps, 
 
 Who ought to be put down, 
 And have , instead of Penny Stamps, 
 
 A Kick worth half a Crown. — ■ 
 For all arrangements have been made 
 
 To give the Fools content, 
 Their letters may he written, "Paid," 
 And every thing, but — sent. 
 
 Letters may — go, or stay, 
 
 Never take it ill, 
 But pay, and praise the Clever ways 
 Of Mr. Eowland Hill. 
 
 And thus facetiously I prove, 
 
 That all they say is stuff, 
 If they've a Post that will not move, 
 
 Their Post is fast enough. 
 They can write Letters when they choose, 
 
 And, if of Mails bereft, 
 Their case is like a pair of shoes, 
 Just one of ' Write, and Left.' 
 
 Letters may— ^go, or stay, 
 
 Never take it ill, 
 But pay, and praise the Witty way* 
 Of Mr. Eowland Hill.! 
 
 I really wish to do them good; 
 And stop them from being cross, 
 
60 LYRICS. 
 
 By showing, how a Christian should 
 
 Endure another's loss, 
 Taught hy this thought, let every mind 
 
 Soon find it's care allayed; 
 Although their Letters stop behind, 
 My Salary is Paid. 
 
 Letters may— go, or stay, 
 
 Never take it ill, 
 But pay, and praise the Pious ways 
 Of Mr. Eowland Hill.! 
 
 Since Railways are expensive things, 
 
 "Which Letters can't requite, 
 I'll tye them fast to Pigeon's Wings, 
 
 And hope they may go right: 
 And if a random shot upset 
 My Postmen, as they fly, 
 Why, some one some-where yet may get 
 The Letters in a Pie. 
 
 Letters may — go, or stay, 
 
 Never take it ill, 
 But pay, and praise the Curious ways 
 Of Mr. Rowland Hill! 
 
 And here's a less expensive plan, 
 
 Than Railways, Cars, or Gigs, 
 I'll send their letters, when I can, 
 
 By any Drove of Pigs: 
 "Who, when they swagger through the streets, 
 
 With bags tied to their tails, 
 May 0runt to every Pig they meet, 
 
 "We are the Royal Mails ! ! !" 
 
 Letters may — go, or stay, 
 Never take it ill, 
 
LYRICS. 61 
 
 But pay, and praise the 'Sty'-lish ways 
 Of Mr. Rowland Hill.! 
 
 Oh ! Rowland Hill, if 'tis your will 
 
 To let our griefs remain, 
 As sure, Sir, as your name is Hill, 
 
 Our spedung will be plain. 
 For all the good your bounty sheds, 
 
 Our thanks we thus express, 
 "If you have sold us Penny Heads, 
 We'll sell you Tour's for less." 
 
 If Letters may — go, or stay, 
 
 We shall take it ill, 
 And cannot praise the Head-strong ways 
 Of Mr. Rowland Hill.! 
 
 Don't hope, if quite unable 
 To grant what we entreat, 
 To prove, by any Label, 
 
 Tour composition sweet, 
 For you '11 be forced to own a 
 
 Truth, both strange, and new, 
 Though one Whale swallowed Jonah, 
 All W(h)ales can't swallow you. 
 Letters may — go, or stay, 
 
 We shall take it ill, 
 And cannot praise the Bitter ways 
 Of Jlv. Rowland Hill.! 
 
 To Rowland Hill a glass we'll fill, 
 
 And this shall be our toast, 
 Oh ! may a quick delivery still 
 
 Adorn the Penny Post. 
 
62 LYRICS. 
 
 To one toast more.we'll all agree 
 
 To fill up to the Brim, 
 "Oh ! may the First Delivery be 
 Delivery from Him,'' : ■;, <. 
 
 Then let him go, and if. 'tis so, 
 
 We, shall not . take it ill, 
 But laugh, and praise 'the Best of Ways' 
 Of Mr Rowland Hill ! 
 
 THE BAZAAR. .. ,, 
 Time — Le Petit Tambour. 
 
 Walk in, and see the Show, 
 
 Walk in, whoever you are; 
 'Tis a Shame, and a Sin, not to come in, 
 
 And see our fine Bazaar. 
 Here is Peace, without Police, ' 
 
 And Order kept so well, 
 That buyers say, as they go away, 
 Oh ! what a i vegvila/r Sell !' 
 
 So, walk in, and seethe show, 
 
 Walk in, whoever you are, 
 'Tis a Shame, anda Sin, not to come in, 
 " Arid see our fine Bazaar. 
 
 Don't fear, any Tricks of Trade, 
 
 But buy, without a doubt 
 That, whatever you choose, you never can use, 
 
 So, it will not soon wear out. 
 
LYRICS. 63 
 
 But if your mind so inclined 
 
 To a real want, or wish, 
 "Why then, it is clear 
 
 As the sea is near, • 
 That you may go, and Pish. 
 
 So, walk in, and see the Show, &c. &c. 
 
 Here are Slippers that fit no foot, 
 
 Gloves that nobody wears, 
 And Fans that defy fine Ladies, who try 
 
 To give themselves any Airs. 
 So, stand, with your purse in hand, 
 
 And out your Money pull, 
 Don't mind, in the least, how much you are fleeced, 
 
 We have plenty of German Wool. 
 
 So, walk in, and see the Show, &c. &c. 
 
 Do you seek a Jew, or Greek, 
 
 A Tartar, or a Turk, 
 Here are specimens placed, to suit each taste, 
 
 In our best Worsted Work. 
 We can sell, so cm naturel, 
 
 A Monkey, or an Ass, 
 That they, who buy, will say, "Surely, 
 
 We are looking in a Glass." 
 
 So, walk in, and see the Shbw, 
 
 Now a sweet Young Lady cries, 
 
 "Indeed, my dear Mama,- - 
 "I shall never sleep, if I may not keep 
 
 "A Stall at thisBazaar. - • *' 
 
 "For so I can attract each Man, 
 
 "That none will wish to range, 
 
64 LYRICS. 
 
 "But all will agree, when they look at me, 
 "Never to ask for Change. 
 
 So, walk in, and see the Show, &c. &c. 
 
 "Oh ! such Charming Goods I'll show, 
 
 "And such a Charming Face, 
 "That I shall take, and no mistake, 
 
 "All the money in the Place. 
 "With a glance I'll so entrance, 
 
 'And make all people buy, 
 "That they need not guess, what brings success, 
 "But will know it is "All, my Eye." 
 So, walk in, and see the Show, 
 Walk in, who-ever you are, 
 'Tis a Shame, and a Sin, not to come in, 
 And see our fine Bazaar. 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION. 
 
 Tune— "A MO, AM AS." 
 Lingo, in The Agreeable Surprise. 
 
 Sweet visions rise 
 
 Before some Eyes 
 Of the days, when na such attractions 
 
 For Boys will be 
 Like the Rule of Three, 
 
 Or Sums in Decimal Fractions. 
 Of little Urchins 
 
 Begging for Birchings, 
 
LYRICS. 
 
 From a laudable Emulation, 
 
 To be made to feel 
 The warmth of their zeal 
 
 For National Education. 
 
 Now, some very good men, 
 
 (Never mind where, or when,) 
 Who blessed their lucky stars, in 
 
 Being born in an Age, 
 When there was such a Rage 
 
 For Prosody, and Parsing, 
 Said, "A School you must make 
 
 The Clay to bake 
 Of the Rising Generation, 
 
 (Now coarse, and thick,) 
 To a regular brick, 
 
 By National Education. 
 
 Do not be afraid, 
 
 You'll have plenty of aid, 
 If the design's not shorter 
 
 Than befits the cause, 
 And our applause, 
 
 So, Hey ! for Stone and Morter. 
 If you take our advice, 
 
 Don't think about the price. 
 A Spirit of Calculation 
 
 Quite baffles, and thaws, 
 True Faith in the cause 
 
 Of National Education. 
 
 If you should go too far, 
 Fall back on a Bazaar. 
 
66 LYRICS. 
 
 If not, (but 'twould be a pity 
 
 To talk of that yet,) 
 On whoever you can get 
 
 To serve on the Committee." 
 Well ! the Buildings grow — 
 
 The Cash — not so. 
 On the Day of Inauguration, 
 
 The good Men run 
 To see what's done 
 
 For National Education. 
 
 I humbly enquire, 
 
 As they all admire, 
 And say, as they view the Building, 
 
 That the carving's very good — 
 Is it understood — 
 
 That I am to furnish the gilding, 
 "Oh ! Sir," cry they, 
 
 "If you mean, 'Who's to pay % ' 
 We'll pay with a conjugation 
 
 Of the verb 'to Do/ 
 On purpose for you, 
 
 And National Education. 
 
 In an active sense, 
 
 Through each Mood, and Tense 
 Of that verb we'll readily run, Sir;' 
 
 Whilst you may rejoice 
 In the passive voice, 
 
 And say 'You're thoroughly done,' Sir. ( 
 And as we'll requite 
 
 Your kind invite 
 
LYRICS. 67 
 
 To pay, with a Decimation, 
 
 You may quiet your qualms 
 With Grammatical forms, 
 
 And National Education." 
 
 So, these very good Men 
 
 Leave me, there and then, 
 To soothe, as I may, my senses, 
 
 With the thoughts of their praise, 
 And of, some of these days, 
 
 Being sued for all the expenses. 
 Now, the honour is great — 
 
 Still, as I hate 
 All idle ostentation, 
 
 I am willing, I declare, 
 To divide my share, 
 
 Of National Education. 
 
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