REMINISCENCES.(Continued.)

A pack of Hounds of Whiggish breed, who sought to get their name up,And all throw off in gallant style whene'er they put the game up,At Brookes's met to form their plans "In vulgum voces spargere"—Not Brookes's Club, as heretofore, but Brookes's great Menagerie.Bow, wow, wow,Tol de riddle, tol de riddle,Bow, wow, wow.When "loaves and fishes" form'd the only object of the chase, Sir,No dogs had better noses, or could go a better pace, Sir;And all excell'd in "giving tongue" whene'er they took their station,To growl about the grievances of this unhappy nation.Bow, wow, wow.Small Bennet, Lushington, and Wood, engaged to raise the ghost ofA certain Royal Funeral, already made the most of;While Wilson, in his grief at being laid upon the shelf, Sir,Thought the most important subject for discussion was—Himself, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.Says Joseph Hume, "Though Croker's cuts have made an alter'd mon o' me,I'll still be foremost in the throng for preaching up economy;I'll hunt down all the charges in our armies and our navies"—"And I will be your whipper-in," cries gallant Colonel Davies.Bow, wow, wow.Then Curwen would repeal the tax on tallow, cheese, or leather.Says Calcraft, "I've a better plan, and let us pull together;Vansittart means to ease the Malt, so let us work the Salt Tax—If Salt should be the word with him—why then we'll try the Malt Tax."Bow, wow, wow.Young Normanby—surprising change!—the motley party graces,And wars against his flesh and blood, to prate at useless places;And Hobhouse swears that every place and placeman he will bark at,Except the first Commissioner for Nabob's debts at Arcot.Bow, wow, wow.There's Joseph Yorke, while he a Lord of Admiralty flourish'd,No patriotic schemes of close retrenchment ever nourish'd;But since, O most unlucky day! his "stern was to the board room,"He sternly vows for idle Lords we cannot now afford room.Bow, wow, wow.Then Calvert, who, of course, opposes all unfair monopolies,Steps forth to regulate the sale of Bread in the metropolis."The poor," he says, "shall never have their quartern loaf too dear, Sir,If they will only hold their tongues about the price of Beer, Sir."Bow, wow, wow.Says Creevy, "I must needs confess, when I was at the India Board,I ne'er did much but read the news, or loll upon the window-board;But since my hopes of lolling there again are all demolish'd,I'll prove the whole concern so bad, it ought to be abolish'd."Bow, wow, wow."I care not who," says Lawyer Brougham, "from place or pension budges;What salaries ye lower, so ye leave alone the Judges;Who knows but I, by chance, may be hereafter for the Bench meant,Thenthatis surely not a proper object for retrenchment."Bow, wow, wow."'Tis wisely said," George Tierney cries, who to the last had tarried,"Too far by patriotic feelings some of ye are carried;Economy 'tis very well at times to snarl and bite for,But have a care, lest bye-and-bye there's nothing left to fight for."Bow, wow, wow.But, spite of Tierney, they have things and notices in plenty, too,To keep the Mountain pack at work till June or July, Twenty-two;And there's no doubt they'll do as much to serve the grateful nation,As they had done before they parted for the short vacation.Bow, wow, wow.

A pack of Hounds of Whiggish breed, who sought to get their name up,

And all throw off in gallant style whene'er they put the game up,

At Brookes's met to form their plans "In vulgum voces spargere"—

Not Brookes's Club, as heretofore, but Brookes's great Menagerie.

Bow, wow, wow,Tol de riddle, tol de riddle,Bow, wow, wow.

When "loaves and fishes" form'd the only object of the chase, Sir,No dogs had better noses, or could go a better pace, Sir;And all excell'd in "giving tongue" whene'er they took their station,To growl about the grievances of this unhappy nation.Bow, wow, wow.

When "loaves and fishes" form'd the only object of the chase, Sir,

No dogs had better noses, or could go a better pace, Sir;

And all excell'd in "giving tongue" whene'er they took their station,

To growl about the grievances of this unhappy nation.

Bow, wow, wow.

Small Bennet, Lushington, and Wood, engaged to raise the ghost ofA certain Royal Funeral, already made the most of;While Wilson, in his grief at being laid upon the shelf, Sir,Thought the most important subject for discussion was—Himself, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

Small Bennet, Lushington, and Wood, engaged to raise the ghost of

A certain Royal Funeral, already made the most of;

While Wilson, in his grief at being laid upon the shelf, Sir,

Thought the most important subject for discussion was—Himself, Sir.

Bow, wow, wow.

Says Joseph Hume, "Though Croker's cuts have made an alter'd mon o' me,I'll still be foremost in the throng for preaching up economy;I'll hunt down all the charges in our armies and our navies"—"And I will be your whipper-in," cries gallant Colonel Davies.Bow, wow, wow.Then Curwen would repeal the tax on tallow, cheese, or leather.Says Calcraft, "I've a better plan, and let us pull together;Vansittart means to ease the Malt, so let us work the Salt Tax—If Salt should be the word with him—why then we'll try the Malt Tax."Bow, wow, wow.

Says Joseph Hume, "Though Croker's cuts have made an alter'd mon o' me,

I'll still be foremost in the throng for preaching up economy;

I'll hunt down all the charges in our armies and our navies"—

"And I will be your whipper-in," cries gallant Colonel Davies.

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Curwen would repeal the tax on tallow, cheese, or leather.

Says Calcraft, "I've a better plan, and let us pull together;

Vansittart means to ease the Malt, so let us work the Salt Tax—

If Salt should be the word with him—why then we'll try the Malt Tax."

Bow, wow, wow.

Young Normanby—surprising change!—the motley party graces,And wars against his flesh and blood, to prate at useless places;And Hobhouse swears that every place and placeman he will bark at,Except the first Commissioner for Nabob's debts at Arcot.Bow, wow, wow.

Young Normanby—surprising change!—the motley party graces,

And wars against his flesh and blood, to prate at useless places;

And Hobhouse swears that every place and placeman he will bark at,

Except the first Commissioner for Nabob's debts at Arcot.

Bow, wow, wow.

There's Joseph Yorke, while he a Lord of Admiralty flourish'd,No patriotic schemes of close retrenchment ever nourish'd;But since, O most unlucky day! his "stern was to the board room,"He sternly vows for idle Lords we cannot now afford room.Bow, wow, wow.

There's Joseph Yorke, while he a Lord of Admiralty flourish'd,

No patriotic schemes of close retrenchment ever nourish'd;

But since, O most unlucky day! his "stern was to the board room,"

He sternly vows for idle Lords we cannot now afford room.

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Calvert, who, of course, opposes all unfair monopolies,Steps forth to regulate the sale of Bread in the metropolis."The poor," he says, "shall never have their quartern loaf too dear, Sir,If they will only hold their tongues about the price of Beer, Sir."Bow, wow, wow.

Then Calvert, who, of course, opposes all unfair monopolies,

Steps forth to regulate the sale of Bread in the metropolis.

"The poor," he says, "shall never have their quartern loaf too dear, Sir,

If they will only hold their tongues about the price of Beer, Sir."

Bow, wow, wow.

Says Creevy, "I must needs confess, when I was at the India Board,I ne'er did much but read the news, or loll upon the window-board;But since my hopes of lolling there again are all demolish'd,I'll prove the whole concern so bad, it ought to be abolish'd."Bow, wow, wow.

Says Creevy, "I must needs confess, when I was at the India Board,

I ne'er did much but read the news, or loll upon the window-board;

But since my hopes of lolling there again are all demolish'd,

I'll prove the whole concern so bad, it ought to be abolish'd."

Bow, wow, wow.

"I care not who," says Lawyer Brougham, "from place or pension budges;What salaries ye lower, so ye leave alone the Judges;Who knows but I, by chance, may be hereafter for the Bench meant,Thenthatis surely not a proper object for retrenchment."Bow, wow, wow.

"I care not who," says Lawyer Brougham, "from place or pension budges;

What salaries ye lower, so ye leave alone the Judges;

Who knows but I, by chance, may be hereafter for the Bench meant,

Thenthatis surely not a proper object for retrenchment."

Bow, wow, wow.

"'Tis wisely said," George Tierney cries, who to the last had tarried,"Too far by patriotic feelings some of ye are carried;Economy 'tis very well at times to snarl and bite for,But have a care, lest bye-and-bye there's nothing left to fight for."Bow, wow, wow.

"'Tis wisely said," George Tierney cries, who to the last had tarried,

"Too far by patriotic feelings some of ye are carried;

Economy 'tis very well at times to snarl and bite for,

But have a care, lest bye-and-bye there's nothing left to fight for."

Bow, wow, wow.

But, spite of Tierney, they have things and notices in plenty, too,To keep the Mountain pack at work till June or July, Twenty-two;And there's no doubt they'll do as much to serve the grateful nation,As they had done before they parted for the short vacation.Bow, wow, wow.

But, spite of Tierney, they have things and notices in plenty, too,

To keep the Mountain pack at work till June or July, Twenty-two;

And there's no doubt they'll do as much to serve the grateful nation,

As they had done before they parted for the short vacation.

Bow, wow, wow.

REMINISCENCES.(Continued.)

When last we left the Mountain Pack enjoying Easter's jolly days, Wefollowed up their sport until it ended with their hol-i-days; Andnow against their "Privilege," we hope 'twill be no treason, Totrack their steps throughout the dull remainder of the sea-son.Bow, wow, wow, Fal liddle Fal de riddle, Bow, wow, wow.

When last we left the Mountain Pack enjoying Easter's jolly days, We

followed up their sport until it ended with their hol-i-days; And

now against their "Privilege," we hope 'twill be no treason, To

track their steps throughout the dull remainder of the sea-son.

Bow, wow, wow, Fal liddle Fal de riddle, Bow, wow, wow.

George Tierney is a cunning dog, and prudently does think it,The wisest to run mute, and when a question rises, blink it;To bunglers he has left it to "give tongue" and talk prophetics,To Hume in figures, Cam in Greek, and Bennet in pathetics.Bow, wow, wow.Brougham vents a loud complaint, that Royal influence increases,And holds that Members of the House should give up all their places;But, shifting Master Harry, pray which way would int'rest turn you,If George the Fourth forthwith was pleased to make you his Attorney?Bow, wow, wow.Says Jarvy Sefton, "I've a charming little jobin petto,From Salford's ancient County Court some modern fees to get O!Just help me through with that, and I'll cry aye to all your movements,For war, the plague, economy, or any great improvements."Bow, wow, wow.Sir Francis Burdett next appears, once idol of the people,Who says, the thought of raising rents should never make men sleep ill;For, though so pure a patriot, his gains he would increase, Sir,And does not care if quartern loaves five shillings were a-piece, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.But what a noble stir he made on Hunt's incarceration,Because his name he holds in such exalted estimation;He always, to be sure, has shewn for him favour and affection,As witness, how he praised him at the Westminster Election.Bow, wow, wow.Says Bridegroom Coke, "For speaking in the House I've lost my head, Sir;But never mind, I'll tell you what I mean to do instead, Sir,I'll work as hard as I'm allow'd by Anne and the physicians,And send you once a week, at least, a bag full of petitions."Bow, wow, wow.Says Gaffer Western, "Though we once, amongst our many whimsies,Cried out with all our might for gold, and grumbled at the 'flimsies,'Since Ministers now pay in cash, and think to cut a caper,We'll turn about and badger them to pay again in paper."Bow, wow, wow.Then Johnny Russell made a speech, and some of it was pointed, too,About "Reform in Parliament," and "state of things in ninety-two;"But though 'twas call'd a sharp harangue, and he had clearly read for't,He never spoke of throwing open Tavistock or Bedford.Bow, wow, wow.Dull Joseph Hume, the stupidest of all the northern doctors,Fell foul, in his good-natured way, of Royal droits and proctors;And hoped that then five thousand pounds at least disbursed had been, Sir,To satisfy some Captain's claims who—votes for Aberdeen, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.Then Courteney moved, and others thought they could do much better,Than vote a breach of Privilege, a certain printed letter;But when they had its writer up, as all reporters teach, Sir,The House forgot its privilege, and only shew'd its breach, Sir!Bow, wow, wow.Then Abercrombie gentle, seized with one of Quixote's frenzies,Sets off, post haste in chaise and four, to call out Lawyer Menzies;But when he got to Ferrybridge he long'd to join the pack again,So after dinner, he and Althorpe—order'd horses back again.Bow, wow, wow.Wise Scarlett, who is just your man to browbeat, pose, or plead, Sir,Produced a poor-bill, which, 'tis said, was very poor indeed, Sir;And Denman spoke when he'd been made a serjeant in the morning,And what he said betray'd that he'd been dining at the Horn Inn.Bow, wow, wow.While Whitbread, Calvert, Buxton all, kept up the price of beer, Sir,Young Yellow Lambton seem'd to think the poor were charged too dear, Sir;But, though he loves his countrymen, he'd not, to save their souls, Sir,Make any alteration in the present price of coals, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.Grey Bennet having got a list of members holding places,Began to foam of hospitals and of ophthalmic cases;When "scissors cut as well as knives," when patients should take blue pills,His oratory—"all my eye"—the dullest he of pupils.Bow, wow, wow.Then as for Davies, Lennard, Ellis, Hutchinson, and Creevy,Ricardo, Williams, Curwen, Smith, or Moses Bernal Levi;They've done as much as smirking Rice or Thanet's Pat Concannon,Or gaiter'd Michael Angelo, or stiff-neck'd Lord Dungannon.Bow, wow, wow.Then Mackintosh (poor Gerald's friend), who doles out legal knowledgeThree times a week to Guinea-pigs at Haileybury College,Conceived the penal laws too hard on rogues of all descriptions,From those who only rob, to those who—carry off subscriptions.Bow, wow, wow.Great Matthew Wood, a citizen, who never can be idle,Brought forward as a mighty hit—the case of Jailor Bridle;Of several other things he spoke, the brightest he of Members,But what they were, nor you, nor I, nor any one remembers.Bow, wow, wow.At length, then, for the present, there's an end to all their labours,The Mountain Pack are now let loose to howl it with their neighbours;And so we bid them thus adieu, until the next campaign, Sir,When if they bark, or snap, or bite, we'll—whip 'em in again, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

George Tierney is a cunning dog, and prudently does think it,

The wisest to run mute, and when a question rises, blink it;

To bunglers he has left it to "give tongue" and talk prophetics,

To Hume in figures, Cam in Greek, and Bennet in pathetics.

Bow, wow, wow.

Brougham vents a loud complaint, that Royal influence increases,And holds that Members of the House should give up all their places;But, shifting Master Harry, pray which way would int'rest turn you,If George the Fourth forthwith was pleased to make you his Attorney?Bow, wow, wow.

Brougham vents a loud complaint, that Royal influence increases,

And holds that Members of the House should give up all their places;

But, shifting Master Harry, pray which way would int'rest turn you,

If George the Fourth forthwith was pleased to make you his Attorney?

Bow, wow, wow.

Says Jarvy Sefton, "I've a charming little jobin petto,From Salford's ancient County Court some modern fees to get O!Just help me through with that, and I'll cry aye to all your movements,For war, the plague, economy, or any great improvements."Bow, wow, wow.

Says Jarvy Sefton, "I've a charming little jobin petto,

From Salford's ancient County Court some modern fees to get O!

Just help me through with that, and I'll cry aye to all your movements,

For war, the plague, economy, or any great improvements."

Bow, wow, wow.

Sir Francis Burdett next appears, once idol of the people,Who says, the thought of raising rents should never make men sleep ill;For, though so pure a patriot, his gains he would increase, Sir,And does not care if quartern loaves five shillings were a-piece, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

Sir Francis Burdett next appears, once idol of the people,

Who says, the thought of raising rents should never make men sleep ill;

For, though so pure a patriot, his gains he would increase, Sir,

And does not care if quartern loaves five shillings were a-piece, Sir.

Bow, wow, wow.

But what a noble stir he made on Hunt's incarceration,Because his name he holds in such exalted estimation;He always, to be sure, has shewn for him favour and affection,As witness, how he praised him at the Westminster Election.Bow, wow, wow.

But what a noble stir he made on Hunt's incarceration,

Because his name he holds in such exalted estimation;

He always, to be sure, has shewn for him favour and affection,

As witness, how he praised him at the Westminster Election.

Bow, wow, wow.

Says Bridegroom Coke, "For speaking in the House I've lost my head, Sir;But never mind, I'll tell you what I mean to do instead, Sir,I'll work as hard as I'm allow'd by Anne and the physicians,And send you once a week, at least, a bag full of petitions."Bow, wow, wow.

Says Bridegroom Coke, "For speaking in the House I've lost my head, Sir;

But never mind, I'll tell you what I mean to do instead, Sir,

I'll work as hard as I'm allow'd by Anne and the physicians,

And send you once a week, at least, a bag full of petitions."

Bow, wow, wow.

Says Gaffer Western, "Though we once, amongst our many whimsies,Cried out with all our might for gold, and grumbled at the 'flimsies,'Since Ministers now pay in cash, and think to cut a caper,We'll turn about and badger them to pay again in paper."Bow, wow, wow.

Says Gaffer Western, "Though we once, amongst our many whimsies,

Cried out with all our might for gold, and grumbled at the 'flimsies,'

Since Ministers now pay in cash, and think to cut a caper,

We'll turn about and badger them to pay again in paper."

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Johnny Russell made a speech, and some of it was pointed, too,About "Reform in Parliament," and "state of things in ninety-two;"But though 'twas call'd a sharp harangue, and he had clearly read for't,He never spoke of throwing open Tavistock or Bedford.Bow, wow, wow.

Then Johnny Russell made a speech, and some of it was pointed, too,

About "Reform in Parliament," and "state of things in ninety-two;"

But though 'twas call'd a sharp harangue, and he had clearly read for't,

He never spoke of throwing open Tavistock or Bedford.

Bow, wow, wow.

Dull Joseph Hume, the stupidest of all the northern doctors,Fell foul, in his good-natured way, of Royal droits and proctors;And hoped that then five thousand pounds at least disbursed had been, Sir,To satisfy some Captain's claims who—votes for Aberdeen, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

Dull Joseph Hume, the stupidest of all the northern doctors,

Fell foul, in his good-natured way, of Royal droits and proctors;

And hoped that then five thousand pounds at least disbursed had been, Sir,

To satisfy some Captain's claims who—votes for Aberdeen, Sir.

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Courteney moved, and others thought they could do much better,Than vote a breach of Privilege, a certain printed letter;But when they had its writer up, as all reporters teach, Sir,The House forgot its privilege, and only shew'd its breach, Sir!Bow, wow, wow.

Then Courteney moved, and others thought they could do much better,

Than vote a breach of Privilege, a certain printed letter;

But when they had its writer up, as all reporters teach, Sir,

The House forgot its privilege, and only shew'd its breach, Sir!

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Abercrombie gentle, seized with one of Quixote's frenzies,Sets off, post haste in chaise and four, to call out Lawyer Menzies;But when he got to Ferrybridge he long'd to join the pack again,So after dinner, he and Althorpe—order'd horses back again.Bow, wow, wow.

Then Abercrombie gentle, seized with one of Quixote's frenzies,

Sets off, post haste in chaise and four, to call out Lawyer Menzies;

But when he got to Ferrybridge he long'd to join the pack again,

So after dinner, he and Althorpe—order'd horses back again.

Bow, wow, wow.

Wise Scarlett, who is just your man to browbeat, pose, or plead, Sir,Produced a poor-bill, which, 'tis said, was very poor indeed, Sir;And Denman spoke when he'd been made a serjeant in the morning,And what he said betray'd that he'd been dining at the Horn Inn.Bow, wow, wow.

Wise Scarlett, who is just your man to browbeat, pose, or plead, Sir,

Produced a poor-bill, which, 'tis said, was very poor indeed, Sir;

And Denman spoke when he'd been made a serjeant in the morning,

And what he said betray'd that he'd been dining at the Horn Inn.

Bow, wow, wow.

While Whitbread, Calvert, Buxton all, kept up the price of beer, Sir,Young Yellow Lambton seem'd to think the poor were charged too dear, Sir;But, though he loves his countrymen, he'd not, to save their souls, Sir,Make any alteration in the present price of coals, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

While Whitbread, Calvert, Buxton all, kept up the price of beer, Sir,

Young Yellow Lambton seem'd to think the poor were charged too dear, Sir;

But, though he loves his countrymen, he'd not, to save their souls, Sir,

Make any alteration in the present price of coals, Sir.

Bow, wow, wow.

Grey Bennet having got a list of members holding places,Began to foam of hospitals and of ophthalmic cases;When "scissors cut as well as knives," when patients should take blue pills,His oratory—"all my eye"—the dullest he of pupils.Bow, wow, wow.

Grey Bennet having got a list of members holding places,

Began to foam of hospitals and of ophthalmic cases;

When "scissors cut as well as knives," when patients should take blue pills,

His oratory—"all my eye"—the dullest he of pupils.

Bow, wow, wow.

Then as for Davies, Lennard, Ellis, Hutchinson, and Creevy,Ricardo, Williams, Curwen, Smith, or Moses Bernal Levi;They've done as much as smirking Rice or Thanet's Pat Concannon,Or gaiter'd Michael Angelo, or stiff-neck'd Lord Dungannon.Bow, wow, wow.

Then as for Davies, Lennard, Ellis, Hutchinson, and Creevy,

Ricardo, Williams, Curwen, Smith, or Moses Bernal Levi;

They've done as much as smirking Rice or Thanet's Pat Concannon,

Or gaiter'd Michael Angelo, or stiff-neck'd Lord Dungannon.

Bow, wow, wow.

Then Mackintosh (poor Gerald's friend), who doles out legal knowledgeThree times a week to Guinea-pigs at Haileybury College,Conceived the penal laws too hard on rogues of all descriptions,From those who only rob, to those who—carry off subscriptions.Bow, wow, wow.

Then Mackintosh (poor Gerald's friend), who doles out legal knowledge

Three times a week to Guinea-pigs at Haileybury College,

Conceived the penal laws too hard on rogues of all descriptions,

From those who only rob, to those who—carry off subscriptions.

Bow, wow, wow.

Great Matthew Wood, a citizen, who never can be idle,Brought forward as a mighty hit—the case of Jailor Bridle;Of several other things he spoke, the brightest he of Members,But what they were, nor you, nor I, nor any one remembers.Bow, wow, wow.

Great Matthew Wood, a citizen, who never can be idle,

Brought forward as a mighty hit—the case of Jailor Bridle;

Of several other things he spoke, the brightest he of Members,

But what they were, nor you, nor I, nor any one remembers.

Bow, wow, wow.

At length, then, for the present, there's an end to all their labours,The Mountain Pack are now let loose to howl it with their neighbours;And so we bid them thus adieu, until the next campaign, Sir,When if they bark, or snap, or bite, we'll—whip 'em in again, Sir.Bow, wow, wow.

At length, then, for the present, there's an end to all their labours,

The Mountain Pack are now let loose to howl it with their neighbours;

And so we bid them thus adieu, until the next campaign, Sir,

When if they bark, or snap, or bite, we'll—whip 'em in again, Sir.

Bow, wow, wow.

A Song.

(With alterations and additions) written by the late patriotic Whig Citizen,Thomas Holcroft, and addressed to his Friend and Patron, the Head of all the Whigs.

Ho!—Why do'st thou shiver and shake,Gaffer Grey?And why does thy nose look so blue?"'Tis the people grow cold,And I—prosy and old,And my speeches, they say, are not new,Well-a-day!"Then clap a new tail on the rump,Gaffer Grey,Or the Whiggamores must go to pot"Nay, but credit I've none,All the Grenvilles have run,Except Nugent—who's not worth the shot,Well-a-day!"Then hie to the house—you know where,Gaffer Grey,And steal up the stairs—you know when."No, 'though roughshod, I sworeTo march in, through the door,I shall ne'er pass that threshold again,Well-a-day!"There's Brougham, who can shift, like his nose,Gaffer Grey,Who browbeats the Parliament down."Pshaw, he shifts for himself,Whilst he pockets the pelf,And would sell the whole squad for a gown,Well-a-day!"There's the Patriot in Ilchester Jail,Gaffer Grey,Who will talk by the job—or the day."He's a low-minded carl,Fit only to snarl,And just as well out of the way,Well-a-day!"There's Hume with his tots and his vots,Gaffer Grey,With his scalpel cuts through thick and thin."Oh, he's worse than the other,He'd cut up his brother,If only to keep his hand in,Well-a-day!"Little Michael has beeves and fat ale,Gaffer Grey,Buona Roti—surnamed by the pack."His dinners be d——d;When the starvelings are cramm'd,Duncannon can't whistle them back,Well-a-day!"There's Creevy, your crony of old,Gaffer Grey,Who shew'd up the Board of Control."He's heavy and lame,And his speeches the same,Are uncommonly prosy and dull,Well-a-day!"There's Wooler, the Bibliopole bold,Gaffer Grey,Who at laws and at lawgivers laughs."Very well in his way,But I beg leave to say,I've a mortal aversion to Raffs,Well-a-day!"There's Bennet the Arch Philanthrope,Gaffer Grey,Who weeps for man, woman, and brute."He may weep as he will,If he'll keep his tongue still;But your best sort of weeper's—a Mute!Well-a-day!"There's Lambton, a sure card at hand,Gaffer Grey,Not given to blush or to flinch."He's a good sort of fellow,Though rather too yellow,And only of use at a pinch,Well-a-day!"There's Lushington, Denman, and Co.,Gaffer Grey,And their friend—what's his name—Mister Wood;"No—the sweet Queen is gone,Their vocation is done,And they cannot do harm, if they would,Well-a-day!"There's Sefton the Good!—four-in-hand,Gaffer Grey,And there's Grosvenor the Great!—from his beeves."One wants for his headA new lining, 'tis said;And the other—some strawberry leaves,Well-a-day!"There's Ossulston, gallant as high,Gaffer Grey,Can prove his descent—without flaw."He was named for a stick,'Twas a sad scurvy trick,For he look'd like—a Frog with a Straw!Well-a-day!"Your chance is but bad, I confess,Gaffer Grey,But freedom may still be your butt."Talk of freedom—my eye!If in the State PieI could get but a finger, I'd cut,—Happy day!"The times are not yet come to that,Gaffer Grey.What then?—"Whilst there's life there is hope:Though John Bull turns his backOn the talented Pack,You may still get Pat Bull from the PopeBy your play!"

Ho!—Why do'st thou shiver and shake,Gaffer Grey?And why does thy nose look so blue?"'Tis the people grow cold,And I—prosy and old,And my speeches, they say, are not new,Well-a-day!"

Ho!—Why do'st thou shiver and shake,

Gaffer Grey?

And why does thy nose look so blue?

"'Tis the people grow cold,

And I—prosy and old,

And my speeches, they say, are not new,

Well-a-day!"

Then clap a new tail on the rump,Gaffer Grey,Or the Whiggamores must go to pot"Nay, but credit I've none,All the Grenvilles have run,Except Nugent—who's not worth the shot,Well-a-day!"

Then clap a new tail on the rump,

Gaffer Grey,

Or the Whiggamores must go to pot

"Nay, but credit I've none,

All the Grenvilles have run,

Except Nugent—who's not worth the shot,

Well-a-day!"

Then hie to the house—you know where,Gaffer Grey,And steal up the stairs—you know when."No, 'though roughshod, I sworeTo march in, through the door,I shall ne'er pass that threshold again,Well-a-day!"

Then hie to the house—you know where,

Gaffer Grey,

And steal up the stairs—you know when.

"No, 'though roughshod, I swore

To march in, through the door,

I shall ne'er pass that threshold again,

Well-a-day!"

There's Brougham, who can shift, like his nose,Gaffer Grey,Who browbeats the Parliament down."Pshaw, he shifts for himself,Whilst he pockets the pelf,And would sell the whole squad for a gown,Well-a-day!"

There's Brougham, who can shift, like his nose,

Gaffer Grey,

Who browbeats the Parliament down.

"Pshaw, he shifts for himself,

Whilst he pockets the pelf,

And would sell the whole squad for a gown,

Well-a-day!"

There's the Patriot in Ilchester Jail,Gaffer Grey,Who will talk by the job—or the day."He's a low-minded carl,Fit only to snarl,And just as well out of the way,Well-a-day!"

There's the Patriot in Ilchester Jail,

Gaffer Grey,

Who will talk by the job—or the day.

"He's a low-minded carl,

Fit only to snarl,

And just as well out of the way,

Well-a-day!"

There's Hume with his tots and his vots,Gaffer Grey,With his scalpel cuts through thick and thin."Oh, he's worse than the other,He'd cut up his brother,If only to keep his hand in,Well-a-day!"

There's Hume with his tots and his vots,

Gaffer Grey,

With his scalpel cuts through thick and thin.

"Oh, he's worse than the other,

He'd cut up his brother,

If only to keep his hand in,

Well-a-day!"

Little Michael has beeves and fat ale,Gaffer Grey,Buona Roti—surnamed by the pack."His dinners be d——d;When the starvelings are cramm'd,Duncannon can't whistle them back,Well-a-day!"

Little Michael has beeves and fat ale,

Gaffer Grey,

Buona Roti—surnamed by the pack.

"His dinners be d——d;

When the starvelings are cramm'd,

Duncannon can't whistle them back,

Well-a-day!"

There's Creevy, your crony of old,Gaffer Grey,Who shew'd up the Board of Control."He's heavy and lame,And his speeches the same,Are uncommonly prosy and dull,Well-a-day!"

There's Creevy, your crony of old,

Gaffer Grey,

Who shew'd up the Board of Control.

"He's heavy and lame,

And his speeches the same,

Are uncommonly prosy and dull,

Well-a-day!"

There's Wooler, the Bibliopole bold,Gaffer Grey,Who at laws and at lawgivers laughs."Very well in his way,But I beg leave to say,I've a mortal aversion to Raffs,Well-a-day!"

There's Wooler, the Bibliopole bold,

Gaffer Grey,

Who at laws and at lawgivers laughs.

"Very well in his way,

But I beg leave to say,

I've a mortal aversion to Raffs,

Well-a-day!"

There's Bennet the Arch Philanthrope,Gaffer Grey,Who weeps for man, woman, and brute."He may weep as he will,If he'll keep his tongue still;But your best sort of weeper's—a Mute!Well-a-day!"

There's Bennet the Arch Philanthrope,

Gaffer Grey,

Who weeps for man, woman, and brute.

"He may weep as he will,

If he'll keep his tongue still;

But your best sort of weeper's—a Mute!

Well-a-day!"

There's Lambton, a sure card at hand,Gaffer Grey,Not given to blush or to flinch."He's a good sort of fellow,Though rather too yellow,And only of use at a pinch,Well-a-day!"

There's Lambton, a sure card at hand,

Gaffer Grey,

Not given to blush or to flinch.

"He's a good sort of fellow,

Though rather too yellow,

And only of use at a pinch,

Well-a-day!"

There's Lushington, Denman, and Co.,Gaffer Grey,And their friend—what's his name—Mister Wood;"No—the sweet Queen is gone,Their vocation is done,And they cannot do harm, if they would,Well-a-day!"

There's Lushington, Denman, and Co.,

Gaffer Grey,

And their friend—what's his name—Mister Wood;

"No—the sweet Queen is gone,

Their vocation is done,

And they cannot do harm, if they would,

Well-a-day!"

There's Sefton the Good!—four-in-hand,Gaffer Grey,And there's Grosvenor the Great!—from his beeves."One wants for his headA new lining, 'tis said;And the other—some strawberry leaves,Well-a-day!"

There's Sefton the Good!—four-in-hand,

Gaffer Grey,

And there's Grosvenor the Great!—from his beeves.

"One wants for his head

A new lining, 'tis said;

And the other—some strawberry leaves,

Well-a-day!"

There's Ossulston, gallant as high,Gaffer Grey,Can prove his descent—without flaw."He was named for a stick,'Twas a sad scurvy trick,For he look'd like—a Frog with a Straw!Well-a-day!"

There's Ossulston, gallant as high,

Gaffer Grey,

Can prove his descent—without flaw.

"He was named for a stick,

'Twas a sad scurvy trick,

For he look'd like—a Frog with a Straw!

Well-a-day!"

Your chance is but bad, I confess,Gaffer Grey,But freedom may still be your butt."Talk of freedom—my eye!If in the State PieI could get but a finger, I'd cut,—Happy day!"

Your chance is but bad, I confess,

Gaffer Grey,

But freedom may still be your butt.

"Talk of freedom—my eye!

If in the State Pie

I could get but a finger, I'd cut,—

Happy day!"

The times are not yet come to that,Gaffer Grey.What then?—"Whilst there's life there is hope:Though John Bull turns his backOn the talented Pack,You may still get Pat Bull from the PopeBy your play!"

The times are not yet come to that,

Gaffer Grey.

What then?—"Whilst there's life there is hope:

Though John Bull turns his back

On the talented Pack,

You may still get Pat Bull from the Pope

By your play!"

A New Ballad, by T. C., Esq.[24]

Tune—"When I was Maid, oh then, oh then!"

I once was a placeman, but then, but then,I once was a placeman, but then'Twas in the pure dayOf Lansdowne and Grey,And the rest of the talented men—men!And the rest of the talented men!I had been a lawyer, but then, but then,I had been a lawyer, but thenI hated the fagOf the wig and the bag,And envied the Parliament men—men,And envied the Parliament men.So I married a widow, and then, and then,So I married a window, and thenFolks wonder'd to seeThat a woman could beSo fond of a face like a wen—wen,So fond of a face like a wen.But she had a borough, and then, and then,She had a borough, and then,By the help of the dame,I got into the same,But never could do it again—again,Never could do it again.So I found out another, and then, and then,So I found out another, and thenThe worthy Lord Thanet,He chose me to man it,As free——as a sheep in a pen—pen!As free as a sheep in a pen!At last we got power, and then, and then,At last we got power, and thenA salary cleanOf hundreds fifteen,Made me the most happy of men—men,Made me the most happy of men.The first quarter-day came, and then, and then,The first quarter-day came, and thenI reckon'd my score,But I never did moreTill quarter-day came round again—'gain,Till quarter-day came round again.Despatches came sometimes, but then, but then,Despatches came sometimes, but thenI handed them slylyTo Morpeth or Hiley,And limp'd back to Brookes's again—'gain,And limp'd back to Brookes's again.If Ossulston call'd on me, then, oh then,If Ossulston call'd on me then,We stroll'd through the Park,And the folks would remark,We look'd like an owl and a wren—wren,We look'd like an owl and a wren.If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then, oh then,If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then,The people would stare,And think us a pairOf mummers, that parodied men—men,Of mummers, that parodied men.If I stay'd at the office, oh then, oh then,If I stay'd at the office, oh then,I damn'd all the Hindoos—Look'd out of the windows—And sometimes I mended a pen—pen!And sometimes I mended a pen!Such toil made me sulky, and then, and then,Such toil made me sulky, and then,If I ask'd for old Wright,He came in in a fright,As if to a bear in his den—den,As if to a bear in his den.This lasted a twelvemonth, and then, oh then,This lasted a twelvemonth, and then,To end all our cares,They kick'd us down stairs,As a hint not to come back again—'gain,As a hint not to come back again.The tumble was heavy, and then, oh then,The tumble was heavy, and thenI grew very sourAt placemen and power,And croak'd like a frog in a fen—fen,And croak'd like a frog in a fen.I vow'd to have vengeance, and then, oh then,I vow'd to have vengeance, and then'Tis a vulgar belief,At catching a thief,An accomplice is equal to ten—ten,An accomplice is equal to ten.So I turn'd informer, and then, oh then,I turn'd informer, and thenI tried to exposeMy friends and my foes,As equally infamous men—men,As equally infamous men.The Whigs they cashier'd me, and then, oh then,The Whigs they cashier'd me, and thenGrey haughtily sworeHe'd trust me no more,Not even with cutting a pen—pen,Not even with cutting a pen.Next Canning chastised me, and then, oh then,Next Canning chastised me, and then,If what is called shame,Were aught but a name,I could ne'er show my visage again—'gain,I could ne'er show my visage again.

I once was a placeman, but then, but then,I once was a placeman, but then'Twas in the pure dayOf Lansdowne and Grey,And the rest of the talented men—men!And the rest of the talented men!

I once was a placeman, but then, but then,

I once was a placeman, but then

'Twas in the pure day

Of Lansdowne and Grey,

And the rest of the talented men—men!

And the rest of the talented men!

I had been a lawyer, but then, but then,I had been a lawyer, but thenI hated the fagOf the wig and the bag,And envied the Parliament men—men,And envied the Parliament men.

I had been a lawyer, but then, but then,

I had been a lawyer, but then

I hated the fag

Of the wig and the bag,

And envied the Parliament men—men,

And envied the Parliament men.

So I married a widow, and then, and then,So I married a window, and thenFolks wonder'd to seeThat a woman could beSo fond of a face like a wen—wen,So fond of a face like a wen.

So I married a widow, and then, and then,

So I married a window, and then

Folks wonder'd to see

That a woman could be

So fond of a face like a wen—wen,

So fond of a face like a wen.

But she had a borough, and then, and then,She had a borough, and then,By the help of the dame,I got into the same,But never could do it again—again,Never could do it again.

But she had a borough, and then, and then,

She had a borough, and then,

By the help of the dame,

I got into the same,

But never could do it again—again,

Never could do it again.

So I found out another, and then, and then,So I found out another, and thenThe worthy Lord Thanet,He chose me to man it,As free——as a sheep in a pen—pen!As free as a sheep in a pen!

So I found out another, and then, and then,

So I found out another, and then

The worthy Lord Thanet,

He chose me to man it,

As free——as a sheep in a pen—pen!

As free as a sheep in a pen!

At last we got power, and then, and then,At last we got power, and thenA salary cleanOf hundreds fifteen,Made me the most happy of men—men,Made me the most happy of men.

At last we got power, and then, and then,

At last we got power, and then

A salary clean

Of hundreds fifteen,

Made me the most happy of men—men,

Made me the most happy of men.

The first quarter-day came, and then, and then,The first quarter-day came, and thenI reckon'd my score,But I never did moreTill quarter-day came round again—'gain,Till quarter-day came round again.

The first quarter-day came, and then, and then,

The first quarter-day came, and then

I reckon'd my score,

But I never did more

Till quarter-day came round again—'gain,

Till quarter-day came round again.

Despatches came sometimes, but then, but then,Despatches came sometimes, but thenI handed them slylyTo Morpeth or Hiley,And limp'd back to Brookes's again—'gain,And limp'd back to Brookes's again.

Despatches came sometimes, but then, but then,

Despatches came sometimes, but then

I handed them slyly

To Morpeth or Hiley,

And limp'd back to Brookes's again—'gain,

And limp'd back to Brookes's again.

If Ossulston call'd on me, then, oh then,If Ossulston call'd on me then,We stroll'd through the Park,And the folks would remark,We look'd like an owl and a wren—wren,We look'd like an owl and a wren.

If Ossulston call'd on me, then, oh then,

If Ossulston call'd on me then,

We stroll'd through the Park,

And the folks would remark,

We look'd like an owl and a wren—wren,

We look'd like an owl and a wren.

If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then, oh then,If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then,The people would stare,And think us a pairOf mummers, that parodied men—men,Of mummers, that parodied men.

If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then, oh then,

If I walk'd with dear Sefton, oh then,

The people would stare,

And think us a pair

Of mummers, that parodied men—men,

Of mummers, that parodied men.

If I stay'd at the office, oh then, oh then,If I stay'd at the office, oh then,I damn'd all the Hindoos—Look'd out of the windows—And sometimes I mended a pen—pen!And sometimes I mended a pen!

If I stay'd at the office, oh then, oh then,

If I stay'd at the office, oh then,

I damn'd all the Hindoos—

Look'd out of the windows—

And sometimes I mended a pen—pen!

And sometimes I mended a pen!

Such toil made me sulky, and then, and then,Such toil made me sulky, and then,If I ask'd for old Wright,He came in in a fright,As if to a bear in his den—den,As if to a bear in his den.

Such toil made me sulky, and then, and then,

Such toil made me sulky, and then,

If I ask'd for old Wright,

He came in in a fright,

As if to a bear in his den—den,

As if to a bear in his den.

This lasted a twelvemonth, and then, oh then,This lasted a twelvemonth, and then,To end all our cares,They kick'd us down stairs,As a hint not to come back again—'gain,As a hint not to come back again.

This lasted a twelvemonth, and then, oh then,

This lasted a twelvemonth, and then,

To end all our cares,

They kick'd us down stairs,

As a hint not to come back again—'gain,

As a hint not to come back again.

The tumble was heavy, and then, oh then,The tumble was heavy, and thenI grew very sourAt placemen and power,And croak'd like a frog in a fen—fen,And croak'd like a frog in a fen.

The tumble was heavy, and then, oh then,

The tumble was heavy, and then

I grew very sour

At placemen and power,

And croak'd like a frog in a fen—fen,

And croak'd like a frog in a fen.

I vow'd to have vengeance, and then, oh then,I vow'd to have vengeance, and then'Tis a vulgar belief,At catching a thief,An accomplice is equal to ten—ten,An accomplice is equal to ten.

I vow'd to have vengeance, and then, oh then,

I vow'd to have vengeance, and then

'Tis a vulgar belief,

At catching a thief,

An accomplice is equal to ten—ten,

An accomplice is equal to ten.

So I turn'd informer, and then, oh then,I turn'd informer, and thenI tried to exposeMy friends and my foes,As equally infamous men—men,As equally infamous men.

So I turn'd informer, and then, oh then,

I turn'd informer, and then

I tried to expose

My friends and my foes,

As equally infamous men—men,

As equally infamous men.

The Whigs they cashier'd me, and then, oh then,The Whigs they cashier'd me, and thenGrey haughtily sworeHe'd trust me no more,Not even with cutting a pen—pen,Not even with cutting a pen.

The Whigs they cashier'd me, and then, oh then,

The Whigs they cashier'd me, and then

Grey haughtily swore

He'd trust me no more,

Not even with cutting a pen—pen,

Not even with cutting a pen.

Next Canning chastised me, and then, oh then,Next Canning chastised me, and then,If what is called shame,Were aught but a name,I could ne'er show my visage again—'gain,I could ne'er show my visage again.

Next Canning chastised me, and then, oh then,

Next Canning chastised me, and then,

If what is called shame,

Were aught but a name,

I could ne'er show my visage again—'gain,

I could ne'er show my visage again.

Tune—"The Black Joke."

Whoe'er knows St. James's, knows where the Whigs metIn behalf of the Queen, a subscription to get,For her Black Wig and her Character white.By Truth and by Wisdom supported she stood—Truth's part play'd by Brougham, that of Wisdom by Wood—They cursed, and they swore that she ne'er did amiss,Though the Baron, they own'd, was so rude as to kissThe Black Wig with the Character white.At Brookes's they met—but demurr'd to the callOf producing the cash—as they had none at allFor the Black Wig and the Character white.Coke growl'd about rents, swore the funds ought to pay;But Baring grimaced, and Ricardo squeak'd "Nay!"And the young ones exclaim'd, in a querulous tone,They each had to pay for a Saint of their own,With a Black Wig and a Character white.But though the subscription was tardy, and theyHad nothing to give, they had plenty to sayFor the Black Wig and the Character white.Lord Tavistock stammer'd three words in her praise,And Sefton his voice and his shoulders did raise;And Calcraft his nose cock'd, and Grant cock'd his eye,And hypocrite Bennet pretended to cryFor the Black Wig and her Character white.Fitzwilliam, that reverend proselyte, rose—(We'll make him speak verse since he cannot speak prose)For the Black Wig and her Character white."You seem," quoth the sage, "all averse to give cash,And, in truth, you are right—what is money but trash?"Let's give something better to end all these quarrels,And raise a subscription of virtue and morals,For the Black Wig and her Character white.Besides, 'tis no merit one's surplus to share,Then let us givethatwhich the least we can spareTo the Black Wig and her Character white.For me I have changed all my friends at the brunt,From Fox, Pitt, and Burke, down to Cobbett and Hunt,As fickle in age as I was in my youth:So freely subscribe my political truthTo the Black Wig and her Character white.Old Tierney set down, with a sorrowful face,The hopes of his life, all the prospects of place,To the Black Wig and her Character white.The message which Brougham had advised and had penn'd,Poor Tierney had rashly advanced to defend,And not to subscribe would be rather uncivil,So he gives very frankly—he gives—to the DevilThe Black Wig and her Character white.Such cheap contributions delighted the pack,And, for once, they were ready their leaders to back,For the Black Wig and her Character white.Silly Billy, God bless him! subscribed all his sense;Of loyalty Grey made a gallant expense;The Gospels, Lord Grosvenor flung down in a boast;And Erskine gave nobly—himself, as a toast;For the Black Wig and her Character white.Bald Bedford, his still balder eloquence gave;And Blessington thought that hiscoup-d'œilmight saveThe Black Wig and her Character white.Big Nugent bestow'd all his graces upon her,Ned Ellice his credit, and Guildford his honour;The Heathcotes, their sense—both the old and the young—And Hume gave—a notice, and Lambton gave—tongueFor the Black Wig and her Character white.By Fergusson back'd, Michael Angelo TaylorSupposed that his statesman-like views might avail herBlack Wig and her Character white.Charles Calvert and Hurst their gentility join;And Grenfell was ready, his visage to coin;And Creevy, of other donations bereft,Subscribed all the courage that Warrender left,To the Black Wig and her Character white.Grave Folkstone, who once before leap'd in the dark,Transfers his devotions from Mary Ann ClarkeTo the Black Wig and her Character white.And Wetherell and Tennyson,soi-disantLawyers,Would give her their fees—if they had but employers.Scarlett offers his law and his wit too,—for ScarlettChimes in—as he pleasantly tell us—with HarlotIn a Black Wig and a Character white.But some with whom nominal morals ran low,Contrived other modes their devotion to show,To the Black Wig and her Character white.Burdett gave the bond he recover'd from Scott—And Wilson the thanks in the field he had got—And Leinster a visiting card of his rib's—And Foley a draft upon—Howard and Gibbs!For the Black Wig and her Character white.But as to the rest it were tedious to sing,How they sacrificed love of their Country and King,To the Black Wig and her Character white.Such talents, such virtues, how much they surpassBaring's stock, Grenfell's copper, or Lushington's brass!Endow'd with such treasures, who would not dispenseWith the paltry account of pounds, shillings, and pence,For the Black Wig and her Character white?But when the great Lady was told of the kindOf efforts the Whigs made for raising the windFor her Black Wig and her Character white,She rose in a fury, and roar'd out, "God-zounds!Run, Vizard, secure me Lord Liverpool's pounds;Of the virtues of Whigs I have more than my share,And their talents and truth are not worth half an hairOf my Black Wig and my Character white."

Whoe'er knows St. James's, knows where the Whigs met

In behalf of the Queen, a subscription to get,

For her Black Wig and her Character white.

By Truth and by Wisdom supported she stood—

Truth's part play'd by Brougham, that of Wisdom by Wood—

They cursed, and they swore that she ne'er did amiss,

Though the Baron, they own'd, was so rude as to kiss

The Black Wig with the Character white.

At Brookes's they met—but demurr'd to the callOf producing the cash—as they had none at allFor the Black Wig and the Character white.Coke growl'd about rents, swore the funds ought to pay;But Baring grimaced, and Ricardo squeak'd "Nay!"And the young ones exclaim'd, in a querulous tone,They each had to pay for a Saint of their own,With a Black Wig and a Character white.

At Brookes's they met—but demurr'd to the call

Of producing the cash—as they had none at all

For the Black Wig and the Character white.

Coke growl'd about rents, swore the funds ought to pay;

But Baring grimaced, and Ricardo squeak'd "Nay!"

And the young ones exclaim'd, in a querulous tone,

They each had to pay for a Saint of their own,

With a Black Wig and a Character white.

But though the subscription was tardy, and theyHad nothing to give, they had plenty to sayFor the Black Wig and the Character white.Lord Tavistock stammer'd three words in her praise,And Sefton his voice and his shoulders did raise;And Calcraft his nose cock'd, and Grant cock'd his eye,And hypocrite Bennet pretended to cryFor the Black Wig and her Character white.

But though the subscription was tardy, and they

Had nothing to give, they had plenty to say

For the Black Wig and the Character white.

Lord Tavistock stammer'd three words in her praise,

And Sefton his voice and his shoulders did raise;

And Calcraft his nose cock'd, and Grant cock'd his eye,

And hypocrite Bennet pretended to cry

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Fitzwilliam, that reverend proselyte, rose—(We'll make him speak verse since he cannot speak prose)For the Black Wig and her Character white."You seem," quoth the sage, "all averse to give cash,And, in truth, you are right—what is money but trash?"Let's give something better to end all these quarrels,And raise a subscription of virtue and morals,For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Fitzwilliam, that reverend proselyte, rose—

(We'll make him speak verse since he cannot speak prose)

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

"You seem," quoth the sage, "all averse to give cash,

And, in truth, you are right—what is money but trash?"

Let's give something better to end all these quarrels,

And raise a subscription of virtue and morals,

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Besides, 'tis no merit one's surplus to share,Then let us givethatwhich the least we can spareTo the Black Wig and her Character white.For me I have changed all my friends at the brunt,From Fox, Pitt, and Burke, down to Cobbett and Hunt,As fickle in age as I was in my youth:So freely subscribe my political truthTo the Black Wig and her Character white.

Besides, 'tis no merit one's surplus to share,

Then let us givethatwhich the least we can spare

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

For me I have changed all my friends at the brunt,

From Fox, Pitt, and Burke, down to Cobbett and Hunt,

As fickle in age as I was in my youth:

So freely subscribe my political truth

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

Old Tierney set down, with a sorrowful face,The hopes of his life, all the prospects of place,To the Black Wig and her Character white.The message which Brougham had advised and had penn'd,Poor Tierney had rashly advanced to defend,And not to subscribe would be rather uncivil,So he gives very frankly—he gives—to the DevilThe Black Wig and her Character white.

Old Tierney set down, with a sorrowful face,

The hopes of his life, all the prospects of place,

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

The message which Brougham had advised and had penn'd,

Poor Tierney had rashly advanced to defend,

And not to subscribe would be rather uncivil,

So he gives very frankly—he gives—to the Devil

The Black Wig and her Character white.

Such cheap contributions delighted the pack,And, for once, they were ready their leaders to back,For the Black Wig and her Character white.Silly Billy, God bless him! subscribed all his sense;Of loyalty Grey made a gallant expense;The Gospels, Lord Grosvenor flung down in a boast;And Erskine gave nobly—himself, as a toast;For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Such cheap contributions delighted the pack,

And, for once, they were ready their leaders to back,

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Silly Billy, God bless him! subscribed all his sense;

Of loyalty Grey made a gallant expense;

The Gospels, Lord Grosvenor flung down in a boast;

And Erskine gave nobly—himself, as a toast;

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

Bald Bedford, his still balder eloquence gave;And Blessington thought that hiscoup-d'œilmight saveThe Black Wig and her Character white.Big Nugent bestow'd all his graces upon her,Ned Ellice his credit, and Guildford his honour;The Heathcotes, their sense—both the old and the young—And Hume gave—a notice, and Lambton gave—tongueFor the Black Wig and her Character white.

Bald Bedford, his still balder eloquence gave;

And Blessington thought that hiscoup-d'œilmight save

The Black Wig and her Character white.

Big Nugent bestow'd all his graces upon her,

Ned Ellice his credit, and Guildford his honour;

The Heathcotes, their sense—both the old and the young—

And Hume gave—a notice, and Lambton gave—tongue

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

By Fergusson back'd, Michael Angelo TaylorSupposed that his statesman-like views might avail herBlack Wig and her Character white.Charles Calvert and Hurst their gentility join;And Grenfell was ready, his visage to coin;And Creevy, of other donations bereft,Subscribed all the courage that Warrender left,To the Black Wig and her Character white.

By Fergusson back'd, Michael Angelo Taylor

Supposed that his statesman-like views might avail her

Black Wig and her Character white.

Charles Calvert and Hurst their gentility join;

And Grenfell was ready, his visage to coin;

And Creevy, of other donations bereft,

Subscribed all the courage that Warrender left,

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

Grave Folkstone, who once before leap'd in the dark,Transfers his devotions from Mary Ann ClarkeTo the Black Wig and her Character white.And Wetherell and Tennyson,soi-disantLawyers,Would give her their fees—if they had but employers.Scarlett offers his law and his wit too,—for ScarlettChimes in—as he pleasantly tell us—with HarlotIn a Black Wig and a Character white.

Grave Folkstone, who once before leap'd in the dark,

Transfers his devotions from Mary Ann Clarke

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

And Wetherell and Tennyson,soi-disantLawyers,

Would give her their fees—if they had but employers.

Scarlett offers his law and his wit too,—for Scarlett

Chimes in—as he pleasantly tell us—with Harlot

In a Black Wig and a Character white.

But some with whom nominal morals ran low,Contrived other modes their devotion to show,To the Black Wig and her Character white.Burdett gave the bond he recover'd from Scott—And Wilson the thanks in the field he had got—And Leinster a visiting card of his rib's—And Foley a draft upon—Howard and Gibbs!For the Black Wig and her Character white.

But some with whom nominal morals ran low,

Contrived other modes their devotion to show,

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

Burdett gave the bond he recover'd from Scott—

And Wilson the thanks in the field he had got—

And Leinster a visiting card of his rib's—

And Foley a draft upon—Howard and Gibbs!

For the Black Wig and her Character white.

But as to the rest it were tedious to sing,How they sacrificed love of their Country and King,To the Black Wig and her Character white.Such talents, such virtues, how much they surpassBaring's stock, Grenfell's copper, or Lushington's brass!Endow'd with such treasures, who would not dispenseWith the paltry account of pounds, shillings, and pence,For the Black Wig and her Character white?

But as to the rest it were tedious to sing,

How they sacrificed love of their Country and King,

To the Black Wig and her Character white.

Such talents, such virtues, how much they surpass

Baring's stock, Grenfell's copper, or Lushington's brass!

Endow'd with such treasures, who would not dispense

With the paltry account of pounds, shillings, and pence,

For the Black Wig and her Character white?

But when the great Lady was told of the kindOf efforts the Whigs made for raising the windFor her Black Wig and her Character white,She rose in a fury, and roar'd out, "God-zounds!Run, Vizard, secure me Lord Liverpool's pounds;Of the virtues of Whigs I have more than my share,And their talents and truth are not worth half an hairOf my Black Wig and my Character white."

But when the great Lady was told of the kind

Of efforts the Whigs made for raising the wind

For her Black Wig and her Character white,

She rose in a fury, and roar'd out, "God-zounds!

Run, Vizard, secure me Lord Liverpool's pounds;

Of the virtues of Whigs I have more than my share,

And their talents and truth are not worth half an hair

Of my Black Wig and my Character white."

OPPOSITION.

Sam Rogers proposed, To my Lady half dosed, To indite a fine new compo-si - tion, In which he might greet Her Ladyship's feet Withproof of his tuneful sub - mis-sion. Says Holland, "Sam, you've my per-mis - sion;" But my Lady has no dis-po - si - tion Tohave her name seen With the friends of the Queen, Or, in short, with the raff Opposition.

Sam Rogers proposed, To my Lady half dosed, To indite a fine new compo-

si - tion, In which he might greet Her Ladyship's feet With

proof of his tuneful sub - mis-sion. Says Holland, "Sam, you've my per-

mis - sion;" But my Lady has no dis-po - si - tion To

have her name seen With the friends of the Queen, Or, in short, with the raff Opposition.

We don't mean to robPoor Sam of his job,But we have a shrewdish suspicion,It will be fifteen yearsBefore it appears,So painful is Sam's parturition;He's not like the Northern Magician,Who writes while he's shooting or fishing,So we'll borrow Sam's hint,And put into printAn ode to the Whig Opposition.There's Tierney, the sly,With his grey sunken eye,Which rolls with a scowl of suspicion,He hates all the Broughams,And despises the Humes,And sits with a look of contrition.He pleads a sham indisposition,And shirks in the House his position;Nor can he be blamedFor feeling ashamedTo lead such a raff Opposition.There is he whom they callSquire Brougham of Brougham Hall,Who would pass for a man of condition;In blood, to be sure,He may match Peter Moore,But the Hall is a mere imposition;The fellow's a hack politician,A tailor in all but ambition,Who offer'd to bilkFor a gown of black silkThe Queen—and her whole Opposition.There's Wilson—poor Bob,Who headed a mob,And in consequence lost his commission,Considers it hard,That haranguing the GuardShould be voted an act of sedition;Besides, 'twas his greatest ambitionTo witness one real ignition;To shot and to dangerHis skin was a stranger,Till the day of the Park Opposition.There's Sefton, who drivesHis ladies by fives,In a gig of the latest edition;Which looks like a cartOf the Guards when they startWith their wives on a Dutch expedition:He greases with anti-attrition—Would his tongue had the same composition!—For, whenever he speaks,It hitches and squeaksLike the drag of the Bath Opposition.There's little Spring Rice,Of Newport the Vice,Who was painted in last Exhibition,Was ready to swearThat Limerick and ClareWere dying from pure inanition;But how did he mend their condition?Did he visit those scenes of perdition?No!—Erin was undone,While he talk'd in London,And smirk'd with the fat Opposition.There's stultified Hume,Who (some people assume)Is an excellent arithmetician,Began as a Tory,—But honour and glorySoon gave such an ass his dismission;Now Joe was a sort of physician,But being no frequent practician,For want of anotherDissected his brother,Though the corps made a strong Opposition.There's the newrara avis,The once Colonel Davis,Now Statesman as much as Tactician,He seems to presumeTo emulate Hume,But, in truth, there is no competition;For Davis sold out his commission—But Hume's more plebeian ambitionIs cribbing the winningsOf Constantine Jennings,The hopes of the whole Opposition.Lord Althorpe, who bentHis way beyond TrentTo challenge a hostile collision,At Ferrybridge foundHe might choose his own ground,And therefore abandon'd his mission;Then—aware of the force of derision,He spoke on some turnpike petition,And explain'd, without end,How he and his friendReturn'd to rejoin Opposition.There's that little thing Bennet—Once turn'd from the Senate,On poor Tyrwhit Jones's petition,The quack, from whom they,Doom'd to Botany Bay,So justly expect manumission.For think what would be his condition,If laws were to have no remission;For, if folks don't tell fibs,Messrs. Howard and GibbsHave claims on this pure Opposition.The Grosvenor-gate filliesMay rail at Achilles,And blush at his naked condition,But Nugent's tight dress,—Which we can't well express,—Is, to us, a more gross exposition.But strange are the freaks of ambition;Which, when a man once sets his wish on,If his head chance to fail,He must try how his tailCan give weight to a light Opposition.There's Williams and Scarlett,Who spoke for "The Harlot,"With airs like the Greek Rhetorician;Williams knows some small Greek,But Scarlett can't speakPlain English, without much tuition:[26]In Cambridge, his great eruditionStands as high as Lord Byron's Politian!"Naked feet, naked feet"Will kick through the streetFat Scarlett and his Opposition.There's Wood, who, for hops,Goes offering to shopsAn excellent new composition,And proves that the plant,The staple of Kent,Is a Tory and vile imposition;But he gets very little commission,The folks eye his drugs with suspicion;The profit much less isThan getting Addresses,Or plate from the Queen's Opposition.There's Creevey, the crawler,That under-bred brawler,Once Clerk to the Indian Commission,He told us himselfThat the mere love of pelfHad placed him in such a position!A Negro exposed to venditionWould have blush'd to have made such admission;Yet the bird who at bestBewrays his own nest,Is the Phœnix of this Opposition!If we could take part inDebates like Dick Martin,And venture to tell our volition,We should certainly pray,By night and by day,For men in their present position.The country has made its decision,Which needs neither change nor revision;May the King, of his grace,Keep out the whole raceOf this wonderful wise Opposition!

We don't mean to rob

Poor Sam of his job,

But we have a shrewdish suspicion,

It will be fifteen years

Before it appears,

So painful is Sam's parturition;

He's not like the Northern Magician,

Who writes while he's shooting or fishing,

So we'll borrow Sam's hint,

And put into print

An ode to the Whig Opposition.

There's Tierney, the sly,With his grey sunken eye,Which rolls with a scowl of suspicion,He hates all the Broughams,And despises the Humes,And sits with a look of contrition.He pleads a sham indisposition,And shirks in the House his position;Nor can he be blamedFor feeling ashamedTo lead such a raff Opposition.

There's Tierney, the sly,

With his grey sunken eye,

Which rolls with a scowl of suspicion,

He hates all the Broughams,

And despises the Humes,

And sits with a look of contrition.

He pleads a sham indisposition,

And shirks in the House his position;

Nor can he be blamed

For feeling ashamed

To lead such a raff Opposition.

There is he whom they callSquire Brougham of Brougham Hall,Who would pass for a man of condition;In blood, to be sure,He may match Peter Moore,But the Hall is a mere imposition;The fellow's a hack politician,A tailor in all but ambition,Who offer'd to bilkFor a gown of black silkThe Queen—and her whole Opposition.

There is he whom they call

Squire Brougham of Brougham Hall,

Who would pass for a man of condition;

In blood, to be sure,

He may match Peter Moore,

But the Hall is a mere imposition;

The fellow's a hack politician,

A tailor in all but ambition,

Who offer'd to bilk

For a gown of black silk

The Queen—and her whole Opposition.

There's Wilson—poor Bob,Who headed a mob,And in consequence lost his commission,Considers it hard,That haranguing the GuardShould be voted an act of sedition;Besides, 'twas his greatest ambitionTo witness one real ignition;To shot and to dangerHis skin was a stranger,Till the day of the Park Opposition.

There's Wilson—poor Bob,

Who headed a mob,

And in consequence lost his commission,

Considers it hard,

That haranguing the Guard

Should be voted an act of sedition;

Besides, 'twas his greatest ambition

To witness one real ignition;

To shot and to danger

His skin was a stranger,

Till the day of the Park Opposition.

There's Sefton, who drivesHis ladies by fives,In a gig of the latest edition;Which looks like a cartOf the Guards when they startWith their wives on a Dutch expedition:He greases with anti-attrition—Would his tongue had the same composition!—For, whenever he speaks,It hitches and squeaksLike the drag of the Bath Opposition.

There's Sefton, who drives

His ladies by fives,

In a gig of the latest edition;

Which looks like a cart

Of the Guards when they start

With their wives on a Dutch expedition:

He greases with anti-attrition—

Would his tongue had the same composition!—

For, whenever he speaks,

It hitches and squeaks

Like the drag of the Bath Opposition.

There's little Spring Rice,Of Newport the Vice,Who was painted in last Exhibition,Was ready to swearThat Limerick and ClareWere dying from pure inanition;But how did he mend their condition?Did he visit those scenes of perdition?No!—Erin was undone,While he talk'd in London,And smirk'd with the fat Opposition.

There's little Spring Rice,

Of Newport the Vice,

Who was painted in last Exhibition,

Was ready to swear

That Limerick and Clare

Were dying from pure inanition;

But how did he mend their condition?

Did he visit those scenes of perdition?

No!—Erin was undone,

While he talk'd in London,

And smirk'd with the fat Opposition.

There's stultified Hume,Who (some people assume)Is an excellent arithmetician,Began as a Tory,—But honour and glorySoon gave such an ass his dismission;Now Joe was a sort of physician,But being no frequent practician,For want of anotherDissected his brother,Though the corps made a strong Opposition.

There's stultified Hume,

Who (some people assume)

Is an excellent arithmetician,

Began as a Tory,—

But honour and glory

Soon gave such an ass his dismission;

Now Joe was a sort of physician,

But being no frequent practician,

For want of another

Dissected his brother,

Though the corps made a strong Opposition.

There's the newrara avis,The once Colonel Davis,Now Statesman as much as Tactician,He seems to presumeTo emulate Hume,But, in truth, there is no competition;For Davis sold out his commission—But Hume's more plebeian ambitionIs cribbing the winningsOf Constantine Jennings,The hopes of the whole Opposition.

There's the newrara avis,

The once Colonel Davis,

Now Statesman as much as Tactician,

He seems to presume

To emulate Hume,

But, in truth, there is no competition;

For Davis sold out his commission—

But Hume's more plebeian ambition

Is cribbing the winnings

Of Constantine Jennings,

The hopes of the whole Opposition.

Lord Althorpe, who bentHis way beyond TrentTo challenge a hostile collision,At Ferrybridge foundHe might choose his own ground,And therefore abandon'd his mission;Then—aware of the force of derision,He spoke on some turnpike petition,And explain'd, without end,How he and his friendReturn'd to rejoin Opposition.

Lord Althorpe, who bent

His way beyond Trent

To challenge a hostile collision,

At Ferrybridge found

He might choose his own ground,

And therefore abandon'd his mission;

Then—aware of the force of derision,

He spoke on some turnpike petition,

And explain'd, without end,

How he and his friend

Return'd to rejoin Opposition.

There's that little thing Bennet—Once turn'd from the Senate,On poor Tyrwhit Jones's petition,The quack, from whom they,Doom'd to Botany Bay,So justly expect manumission.For think what would be his condition,If laws were to have no remission;For, if folks don't tell fibs,Messrs. Howard and GibbsHave claims on this pure Opposition.

There's that little thing Bennet—

Once turn'd from the Senate,

On poor Tyrwhit Jones's petition,

The quack, from whom they,

Doom'd to Botany Bay,

So justly expect manumission.

For think what would be his condition,

If laws were to have no remission;

For, if folks don't tell fibs,

Messrs. Howard and Gibbs

Have claims on this pure Opposition.

The Grosvenor-gate filliesMay rail at Achilles,And blush at his naked condition,But Nugent's tight dress,—Which we can't well express,—Is, to us, a more gross exposition.But strange are the freaks of ambition;Which, when a man once sets his wish on,If his head chance to fail,He must try how his tailCan give weight to a light Opposition.

The Grosvenor-gate fillies

May rail at Achilles,

And blush at his naked condition,

But Nugent's tight dress,—

Which we can't well express,—

Is, to us, a more gross exposition.

But strange are the freaks of ambition;

Which, when a man once sets his wish on,

If his head chance to fail,

He must try how his tail

Can give weight to a light Opposition.

There's Williams and Scarlett,Who spoke for "The Harlot,"With airs like the Greek Rhetorician;Williams knows some small Greek,But Scarlett can't speakPlain English, without much tuition:[26]In Cambridge, his great eruditionStands as high as Lord Byron's Politian!"Naked feet, naked feet"Will kick through the streetFat Scarlett and his Opposition.

There's Williams and Scarlett,

Who spoke for "The Harlot,"

With airs like the Greek Rhetorician;

Williams knows some small Greek,

But Scarlett can't speak

Plain English, without much tuition:[26]

In Cambridge, his great erudition

Stands as high as Lord Byron's Politian!

"Naked feet, naked feet"

Will kick through the street

Fat Scarlett and his Opposition.

There's Wood, who, for hops,Goes offering to shopsAn excellent new composition,And proves that the plant,The staple of Kent,Is a Tory and vile imposition;But he gets very little commission,The folks eye his drugs with suspicion;The profit much less isThan getting Addresses,Or plate from the Queen's Opposition.

There's Wood, who, for hops,

Goes offering to shops

An excellent new composition,

And proves that the plant,

The staple of Kent,

Is a Tory and vile imposition;

But he gets very little commission,

The folks eye his drugs with suspicion;

The profit much less is

Than getting Addresses,

Or plate from the Queen's Opposition.

There's Creevey, the crawler,That under-bred brawler,Once Clerk to the Indian Commission,He told us himselfThat the mere love of pelfHad placed him in such a position!A Negro exposed to venditionWould have blush'd to have made such admission;Yet the bird who at bestBewrays his own nest,Is the Phœnix of this Opposition!

There's Creevey, the crawler,

That under-bred brawler,

Once Clerk to the Indian Commission,

He told us himself

That the mere love of pelf

Had placed him in such a position!

A Negro exposed to vendition

Would have blush'd to have made such admission;

Yet the bird who at best

Bewrays his own nest,

Is the Phœnix of this Opposition!

If we could take part inDebates like Dick Martin,And venture to tell our volition,We should certainly pray,By night and by day,For men in their present position.The country has made its decision,Which needs neither change nor revision;May the King, of his grace,Keep out the whole raceOf this wonderful wise Opposition!

If we could take part in

Debates like Dick Martin,

And venture to tell our volition,

We should certainly pray,

By night and by day,

For men in their present position.

The country has made its decision,

Which needs neither change nor revision;

May the King, of his grace,

Keep out the whole race

Of this wonderful wise Opposition!

(From One of the Patronesses of the Ladies' Fancy Ball.)

Tune—"Run, Neighbours, Run," &c.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd;We, with French dances, will overcome French vapouring,And with ice and Roman punch amaze the world:There's I myself, and Lady L. you'll seldom meet a rummer set,With Lady Grosvenor, Lady Foley, and her Grace of Somerset,While Lady Jersey fags herself, regardless of the bustle, Ma'am,With Lady Cowper, Lady Anne, and Lady William Russell, Ma'am.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.Oh, such a treat—'twill be pleasant, past conception, Ma'am,Such a crowd of patriot dames were never, never seen;Most of them at Brandenburgh have met a warm reception, Ma'am,And were boon companions of our gracious Queen!In smiles array'd, my Lady Grey, with such a noble work elate,The lemonade, and water-ice, will undertake to circulate,With meat in slices, laid on bread, about the rooms to hand which, isOf course the task of Lady S., the head of all the Sandwiches.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.Then, Ma'am, for company!—there ne'er has been a rush in townHalf so great as there will be to this Whig thing:Mrs. Brougham and Mrs. Wilde, the Doctor, Mrs. Lushington,Mrs. Ellis, Mrs. Baring, Lord and Lady King;The Duke of Gloucester, Mr. Forster, little Colonel Higgins, Ma'am,Mrs. Barber Beaumont, Mrs. Byng, and Mrs. Figgins, Ma'am;Lady Morgan, Lady Stanhope, old Sir Robert Baker, Ma'am,And Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Frith, and Lord and Lady Dacre, Ma'am.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.Then for amusement, so charmingly diversified;Poets, painters, patriots, peers, will all be there,Wilson's wise letter, by Tommy Campbell versified,Cammy Hob will give us to an old Greek air;Lord Nugent, in silk pantaloons, will dance a grand bolero,And little Moore, to patriot words, will sing us Lil'bulero,And Doctor Hume, his spirits raised by half a pint of Farintosh,Will stump a Highlandpas de deuxwith Gerald's Jemmy Macintosh.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.The supper will be Pic-nic—I'm sure I scarce can pen it, Ma'am,But calf's-head soup I know is sent by Doctor Hume;Syllabubs and trifles from Mr. Henry Bennet, Ma'am;And lamb in various shapes and ways by Mr. Brougham.The Maberlys' send mushrooms and saddles two of mutton, Ma'am;A cod's head and shoulders Sefton volunteers to put on, Ma'am;Chicken-pies from Taylor come, and lobsters from Sir Ronald, Ma'am,And gooseberry fool in Scottish pints from Mr. James Macdonald, Ma'am.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.Silly Billy volunteer'd to get a royal stag shot,To treat the Whigs with venison, but it would not do;His Highness was unlucky—so he sent a goose from Bagshot,While little Rice has furnish'd us with Irish stew;Lord Nugent sends a round of beef with cucumber and mustard, Ma'am,And Lady Anne from Holkham sends us up a fine old bustard, Ma'am,Peter Moore finds pipes and punch, while Lambton makes the gravies, Ma'am,And many little nameless items come from Colonel Davies, Ma'am.Run, ladies, run, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.As for the Spaniards, the Cortes, or King Ferdinand,I hope, dear Ma'am, you'll not suppose I care one pin,A motley ball at Almack's is consider'd quite "a bird in hand"By those, who on the decent nights cannot get in!Then come yourself, I hope you will, and bring your eldest daughter, Ma'am,And Susan Smith, who ran away, if Mr. Smith has caught her, Ma'am;Our husbands wish it, and they pay for every-thing to cram us with,The principle's the same as that which took us all to Hammersmith.Come, madam, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Pleasure's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd;

We, with French dances, will overcome French vapouring,

And with ice and Roman punch amaze the world:

There's I myself, and Lady L. you'll seldom meet a rummer set,

With Lady Grosvenor, Lady Foley, and her Grace of Somerset,

While Lady Jersey fags herself, regardless of the bustle, Ma'am,

With Lady Cowper, Lady Anne, and Lady William Russell, Ma'am.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Oh, such a treat—'twill be pleasant, past conception, Ma'am,Such a crowd of patriot dames were never, never seen;Most of them at Brandenburgh have met a warm reception, Ma'am,And were boon companions of our gracious Queen!In smiles array'd, my Lady Grey, with such a noble work elate,The lemonade, and water-ice, will undertake to circulate,With meat in slices, laid on bread, about the rooms to hand which, isOf course the task of Lady S., the head of all the Sandwiches.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Oh, such a treat—'twill be pleasant, past conception, Ma'am,

Such a crowd of patriot dames were never, never seen;

Most of them at Brandenburgh have met a warm reception, Ma'am,

And were boon companions of our gracious Queen!

In smiles array'd, my Lady Grey, with such a noble work elate,

The lemonade, and water-ice, will undertake to circulate,

With meat in slices, laid on bread, about the rooms to hand which, is

Of course the task of Lady S., the head of all the Sandwiches.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Then, Ma'am, for company!—there ne'er has been a rush in townHalf so great as there will be to this Whig thing:Mrs. Brougham and Mrs. Wilde, the Doctor, Mrs. Lushington,Mrs. Ellis, Mrs. Baring, Lord and Lady King;The Duke of Gloucester, Mr. Forster, little Colonel Higgins, Ma'am,Mrs. Barber Beaumont, Mrs. Byng, and Mrs. Figgins, Ma'am;Lady Morgan, Lady Stanhope, old Sir Robert Baker, Ma'am,And Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Frith, and Lord and Lady Dacre, Ma'am.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Then, Ma'am, for company!—there ne'er has been a rush in town

Half so great as there will be to this Whig thing:

Mrs. Brougham and Mrs. Wilde, the Doctor, Mrs. Lushington,

Mrs. Ellis, Mrs. Baring, Lord and Lady King;

The Duke of Gloucester, Mr. Forster, little Colonel Higgins, Ma'am,

Mrs. Barber Beaumont, Mrs. Byng, and Mrs. Figgins, Ma'am;

Lady Morgan, Lady Stanhope, old Sir Robert Baker, Ma'am,

And Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Frith, and Lord and Lady Dacre, Ma'am.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Then for amusement, so charmingly diversified;Poets, painters, patriots, peers, will all be there,Wilson's wise letter, by Tommy Campbell versified,Cammy Hob will give us to an old Greek air;Lord Nugent, in silk pantaloons, will dance a grand bolero,And little Moore, to patriot words, will sing us Lil'bulero,And Doctor Hume, his spirits raised by half a pint of Farintosh,Will stump a Highlandpas de deuxwith Gerald's Jemmy Macintosh.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Then for amusement, so charmingly diversified;

Poets, painters, patriots, peers, will all be there,

Wilson's wise letter, by Tommy Campbell versified,

Cammy Hob will give us to an old Greek air;

Lord Nugent, in silk pantaloons, will dance a grand bolero,

And little Moore, to patriot words, will sing us Lil'bulero,

And Doctor Hume, his spirits raised by half a pint of Farintosh,

Will stump a Highlandpas de deuxwith Gerald's Jemmy Macintosh.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

The supper will be Pic-nic—I'm sure I scarce can pen it, Ma'am,But calf's-head soup I know is sent by Doctor Hume;Syllabubs and trifles from Mr. Henry Bennet, Ma'am;And lamb in various shapes and ways by Mr. Brougham.The Maberlys' send mushrooms and saddles two of mutton, Ma'am;A cod's head and shoulders Sefton volunteers to put on, Ma'am;Chicken-pies from Taylor come, and lobsters from Sir Ronald, Ma'am,And gooseberry fool in Scottish pints from Mr. James Macdonald, Ma'am.Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

The supper will be Pic-nic—I'm sure I scarce can pen it, Ma'am,

But calf's-head soup I know is sent by Doctor Hume;

Syllabubs and trifles from Mr. Henry Bennet, Ma'am;

And lamb in various shapes and ways by Mr. Brougham.

The Maberlys' send mushrooms and saddles two of mutton, Ma'am;

A cod's head and shoulders Sefton volunteers to put on, Ma'am;

Chicken-pies from Taylor come, and lobsters from Sir Ronald, Ma'am,

And gooseberry fool in Scottish pints from Mr. James Macdonald, Ma'am.

Come, ladies, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Silly Billy volunteer'd to get a royal stag shot,To treat the Whigs with venison, but it would not do;His Highness was unlucky—so he sent a goose from Bagshot,While little Rice has furnish'd us with Irish stew;Lord Nugent sends a round of beef with cucumber and mustard, Ma'am,And Lady Anne from Holkham sends us up a fine old bustard, Ma'am,Peter Moore finds pipes and punch, while Lambton makes the gravies, Ma'am,And many little nameless items come from Colonel Davies, Ma'am.Run, ladies, run, 'tis now the time for capering,Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

Silly Billy volunteer'd to get a royal stag shot,

To treat the Whigs with venison, but it would not do;

His Highness was unlucky—so he sent a goose from Bagshot,

While little Rice has furnish'd us with Irish stew;

Lord Nugent sends a round of beef with cucumber and mustard, Ma'am,

And Lady Anne from Holkham sends us up a fine old bustard, Ma'am,

Peter Moore finds pipes and punch, while Lambton makes the gravies, Ma'am,

And many little nameless items come from Colonel Davies, Ma'am.

Run, ladies, run, 'tis now the time for capering,

Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

As for the Spaniards, the Cortes, or King Ferdinand,I hope, dear Ma'am, you'll not suppose I care one pin,A motley ball at Almack's is consider'd quite "a bird in hand"By those, who on the decent nights cannot get in!Then come yourself, I hope you will, and bring your eldest daughter, Ma'am,And Susan Smith, who ran away, if Mr. Smith has caught her, Ma'am;Our husbands wish it, and they pay for every-thing to cram us with,The principle's the same as that which took us all to Hammersmith.Come, madam, come, 'tis now the time for capering,Pleasure's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

As for the Spaniards, the Cortes, or King Ferdinand,

I hope, dear Ma'am, you'll not suppose I care one pin,

A motley ball at Almack's is consider'd quite "a bird in hand"

By those, who on the decent nights cannot get in!

Then come yourself, I hope you will, and bring your eldest daughter, Ma'am,

And Susan Smith, who ran away, if Mr. Smith has caught her, Ma'am;

Our husbands wish it, and they pay for every-thing to cram us with,

The principle's the same as that which took us all to Hammersmith.

Come, madam, come, 'tis now the time for capering,

Pleasure's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.

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