Chapter X: Part 48: Songs by the Hon. Mrs. Norton, and various old English (10)

Then as Billy[19] stands up for Prerogative strong,
If the Father was right, sure the Son must be wrong,
So let every Englishman join in my song,
Success to the Whigs of Old England!
Success to the Old English Whigs!

From _The History of the Westminster Election_, 1784.

――――

OH! THE WHITE VESTS OF YOUNG ENGLAND!

Oh! the vests of Young England are perfectly white,
And they’re cut very neatly and sit very tight;
And they serve to distinguish our Young Englishmen
From the juvenile MANNERS to CONINGSBY BEN;
Sing, “Oh! the white vests of Young England,
And Oh! the Young English white vests!”

Now the Old English vest was some two yards about,
For Old England was rather inclined to be stout;
But the Young English waist is extremely compress’d,
By the very close fit of the Young English vest.
Sing, “Oh! &c.”

The Young English white vest, upon one little score,
May perhaps be considered a bit of a bore,
For it makes the resemblance exceedingly near
’Twixt the Young English Waiter and Young English Peer.
Sing, “Oh! &c.”

But what are the odds as concerning the vest,
So long as felicity reigns in the breast?
And Young England to wear what it pleases may claim,
Let us hope all its tailors are paid for the same.
Sing, “Oh! &c.”

_Punch_ 1844.

――――

O! THE BROWN BEER OF OLD ENGLAND.

When humming brown beer was the Englishman’s taste,
Our wives they were merry, our daughters were chaste;
Their breath smelt like roses whenever embraced;
O! the brown beer of old England,
And, O! the Old English brown beer.

Ere coffee and tea found their way to the town,
Our ancestors by their own fire-sides sat down,
Their bread it was white, and their beer it was brown.
O! the brown beer &c.

Our heroes of old, of whose conquests we boast,
Could make a good meal of a pot and a toast;
O! did we so now, we should soon rule the roast.
O! the brown beer &c.

When the great Spanish fleet on our coast did appear,
Our sailors, each one, drank a jorum of beer
And sent them away with a flea in their ear.
O! the brown beer, &c.

Our clergymen then took a cup of good beer;
Ere they mounted the rostrum, their spirits to cheer;
Then preached against vice, _though courtiers were near_.
O! the brown beer, &c.

Their doctrines were then authentic and bold,
Well grounded on scripture and fathers of old
But now they preach nothing but what they are told.
O! the brown beer, &c.

For since the geneva and strong ratafee,
We are dwindled to nothing,――but stay――let me see
Faith, nothing at all but mere fiddle-de-dee.
O! the brown beer, &c.

ANONYMOUS.

From _The Universal Songster_. Vol. III.

――――

THE FROG AND THE BULL.

As once on a time a young frog, pert and vain,
Beheld a large ox grazing on the wide plain,
He boasted his size he could quickly attain.
Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England,
And O for Old England’s Roast Beef.

Then eagerly stretching his weak little frame;
Mamma, who stood by, like a cunning old dame.
Cried, “Son, to attempt it you’re surely to blame,”
Oh, the Roast Beef, &c.

But, deaf to advice, he for glory did thirst,
An effort he ventured more strong than the first,
Till swelling and straining too hard made him burst.
Oh, the Roast Beef, &c.

Then Britons, be careful, the moral is clear;
The ox is Old England, the frog is Monsieur,
Whose threats and bravadoes we never need fear,
While we have Roast Beef in Old England.
Sing O for Old England’s Roast Beef.

ANONYMOUS.
――――

THE BOILED BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND.

That mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman’s food,
And spoon-meat the Frenchman’s was once understood,
And mess-bugles at dinner-time still stir the blood,
With “Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England,
And Oh, for Old English Roast Beef.”

Yes, “Oh, for Roast Beef,” well our soldiers may sigh,
They may sniff it down areas, in cook-shops may eye;
But save in that music, bid life-long good bye,
To the famous Roast Beef of Old England,
The mighty Old English Roast Beef.

For as if we’d ta’en lesson from soup-stewing France,
In our barracks Roast Beef is a dream of romance,
And the man who enlists is condemned in advance,
To sing, “Blow the Boiled Beef of Old England,”
And “Blow that Old English Boiled Beef!”

If against civil broils barrack-rules still must preach,
And our troops rule the roast, but in figure of speech,
Then surely we’re bound our mess-bugles to teach
To play “Blow the Boiled Beef of Old England,”
And “Blow the Old English Boiled Beef!”

What’s the odds if at _Bouilli_ the soldier looks blue?
’Tis the rule of the service, and can’t be broke through.
Against roast, fry, or bake Colonel North in a stew
Would cry, “Where’s the Boiled Beef of Old England,
Oh, where’s the Old English Boiled Beef?”

What with those leather collars, their throttles that lock,
And those weary camp-kettles, their hunger that mock,
Our poor British soldiers must surely hate _stock_,
And sing, “Blow the Boiled Beef of Old England,
Oh, Blow the Old English Boiled Beef!”

With the shako that lets the rain into his neck,
And the pack, pouch, and cross-belts, his breathing that check,
And the barrack-room reeking like any slave-deck,
Keep up the Boiled Beef of Old England.
Keep up the Old English Boiled Beef.

At huge cost let recruits still be drilled, dressed, and taught,
To have them die off twice as fast as they ought,
Let General Routine still set reason at nought,
And sing, “Oh, the Boiled Beef of Old England,”
And “Oh, the Old English Boiled Beef!”

By all means let our soldiers be served, in the way,
That famed Dr. Kitch’ner said cucumbers may,
First dress ’em with care, and then throw them away,
And sing, “Oh, the Boiled Beef of Old England,”
And “Oh, the Old English Boiled Beef!”

_Punch._ March 6, 1858.

――――

THE PAUPER’S CHAUNT.[20]

O we’re very well fed, so we must not repine,
Though turkey we’ve _cut_, and likewise the chine
But, oh! once a year we should just like to dine
On the Roast Beef of Old England,
Oh, the Old English Roast-Beef.

O, the gruel’s delicious, the taters divine――
And our very small beer is uncommonly _fine_;
But with us we think you would not like to dine,
Without the Roast-Beef of Old England,
Oh, the Old English Roast-Beef!

Our soup’s very good, we really must own.
But of what it is made arn’t very well-known;
So, without any soup we would much rather dine
On the Roast-Beef of Old England,
Oh, the Old English Roast-Beef!

Mince-pies they are nice, and plum-pudding is fine,
But we’d give up them both for “ribs” or “Sir Line,”
If for once in the year we could but just dine
On the Roast-Beef of Old England,
Oh, the Old English Roast-Beef!

“Roast Beef and plum-pudding” is true Christmas fare,
But they think that our _morals_ such dainties won’t bear.
Oh, oh! it is plain ne’er more shall we share
In the Roast-Beef of Old England,
Oh, the Old English Roast-Beef!

From _George Cruikshank’s Omnibus_.

――――

THE SIRLOIN SUPERSEDED.

Once mighty roast beef was the Englishman’s food.
It has now grown so dear that ’tis nearly tabooed.
But Australian beef, potted, is cheap and is good.
O, the Boiled Beef of Australia!
And O, the Australian Boiled Beef!

It is capital cold; it is excellent hot;
And, if a large number of children you’ve got,
’Twill greatly assist you in boiling the pot.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

First-rate is Australian mutton, likewise,
For curries, and rissoles and puddings, and pies.
The thrifty good housewife no butcher’s meat buys.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

It will make you a hash that is fit for a king.
And the young ones all like it, and that’s a great thing.
So Paterfamilias it causes to sing,
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

For the small boys and girls eat the fat with the lean,
Don’t leave underdone, but their plates nicely clean――
Where pigs are not kept which helps make all serene.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

Australian meat from the bone being free,
The more economical needs must it be.
As there are no joints there’s no carving you see.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

The fleshpots of Egypt were once in high fame;
Australian fleshpots have more than the same,
Old England’s roast beef is now rivalled in name.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

The privileged victims who Income-tax pay,
Whose earnings precarious are taken away,
While ceasing to deal with a Butcher, can say
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

’Tis true that your servants, fastidious and fine,
Australian meat in their folly decline.
On skilligolee they hereafter may dine.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

Now pour out the wine which we could not afford
Except for Antipodes’ meat on the board.
Its inventors’ good health!――whilst my helping’s encored.
O, the Boiled Beef, &c.

_Punch._ August 24, 1872.

――――

STIRRING THE PUDDING,
A Song for the Christmas Season.

The National Padding all parties protest
By themselves is best planned, and compounded the best,
And each eager spoon wielder will stoutly aver
All would turn out quite well had himself but a stir.
At the glorious Plum-Padding of England,
Old England’s unequalled Plum-Pudding!

The Stirrers-in-Chief, who’ve their spoons in the pan,
Have been stirring away on their own special plan
For a tidy long time, and triumphantly say
That no Season has shown, for this many a day,
Such a splendid Plum-Pudding for England,
Such a genuine English Plum-Padding!

Well we know the old Saw about too many cooks;
But a Saw is not always so sage as it looks;
And a Pudding so big as JOHN BULL’s may require
All the hands and the spoons that toil on and ne’er tire
Of stirring the Pudding of England,
The mighty old English Plum-Pudding!

The proof of the Pudding’s in eating, they say;
And JOHN BULL, who must eat it has likewise to pay;
And so, at this season, let’s wish them success,
And hope that among them they won’t make a mess
Of the rare old Plum-Pudding of England,
The old English Christmas Plum-Pudding!

(_Four verses omitted._)

_Punch._ Dec. 27, 1879.

――――:o:――――

THE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE.

Oh, Britannia, the pride of the ocean,
The home of the brave and the free,
It is time that with zealous devotion,
We saw to the Navy for thee.
If tyrants thou still wouldst make tremble,
Thou needest some armour-clads new,
Or else――it is vain to dissemble――
It’s all up with the Red, White, and Blue.
It’s all up with the Red, White, and Blue,
It’s all up with the Red, White, and Blue;
It is useless to longer dissemble,
’Tis all up with the Red, White, and Blue.

_Truth Christmas Number._ 1884.

――――

THE ELECTION.

Great, great is the task set before us――
Once more ’tis for us to decide
The men who shall freely rule o’er us,
And still by our bidding abide.
Then choose we the leaders whose story
Will ever bear telling anew,
Whose work in the past is their glory,
And stamps them as honest and true.

_Chorus._

Then choose we the tried, wise, and true,
Then seek we the tried, wise, and true;
Let truth and consistency rule us,
And choose we the tried, wise, and true.

We know what the task is whose splendour
Our country will light on its way,
When Justice and Progress attend her,
And class has forgotten its sway;
When hope for the thousands who labour
Is real in their toil-weary view――
When right for each man and his neighbour
Shall end in a union that’s true!

J. PRATT.
_The Weekly Dispatch._ October 25, 1885.

――――

AN AMERICAN IMITATION.

Oh, Columbia, the gem of the ocean,
The home of the brave and the free;
The shrine of each patriot’s devotion,
A world offers homage to thee.
Thy mandates make heroes assemble,
When liberty’s form stands in view;
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the red, white and blue.

When borne by the red, white and blue.
When borne by the red, white and blue,
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the red, white and blue.

When war waged its wide desolation,
And threatened our land to deform,
The ark then of freedom’s foundation,
Columbia rode safe through the storm.
With her garland of victory o’er her,
When so proudly she bore her bold crew,
With her flag proudly floating before her,
The boast of the red, white and blue.

The wine cup, the wine cup bring hither,
And fill you it up to the brim,
May the memory of Washington ne’er wither,
Nor the star of his glory grow dim.
May the service united ne’er sever
And each to our colors prove true:
The army and navy forever,
Three cheers for the red, white and blue.

Three cheers for the red, white and blue,
Three cheers for the red, white and blue,
The army and navy forever,
Three cheers for the red, white and blue.

――――:o:――――

THE ENGLISHMAN.

There’s a paper bears a well-known name,
Though it is but a sorry lot;
On the English journals’ scroll of fame
It seems but a dirty blot.
On the scribbling ones who by it live
I’ll not waste word of song;
Nor for all the ex-Q.C.[21] could give
To that paper would I belong.
It’s a scurrilous journal, deny it who can――
A disgrace to the name of ENGLISHMAN.

From _Faust and ’Phisto_. 1876.

――――

THE JINGO-ENGLISHMAN.
(_New Version of an old Song, adapted to the tastes of the
Patriot of the Period._)

There’s a Land that’s Cock of Creation’s walk,
Though it is but a tiny isle,
And to hear its brag, and its tall tall talk,
Might make e’en _Bombastes_ smile.
It holds itself holiest, first in fight,
Most brave, most wise, most strong,
And will ne’er admit what it fancies right
Can by any chance be wrong.
’Tis the pink of perfection, deny it who can,
The Home of the Jingo Englishman!

There’s a Flag that floats o’er every sea,
And claims to control the brine;
And if any dare hint that it makes too free,
The result is a deuce of a shine.
For the bouncing boys who walk the deck
Deem the Ocean their own little lot,
And if foreign fools at their pride should check,
They will catch it exceedingly hot.
Right-divine’s in its bunting, deny it who can,
Is the Flag of the Jingo-Englishman!

There’s a Heart that leaps with a generous glow
A paying cause to defend,
Lets interest rule it in fixing a foe,
And profit in choosing a friend.
It nurtures a deep and abiding love
For possession of power and pelf,
And deems that the duty all others above
Is enshrined in that sweet word “self.”
’Tis a rare tough organ, deny it who can,
The Heart of your Jingo-Englishman!

The Briton may traverse the Pole or the Zone,
And annex on sea or shore;
He calls an immense domain his own,
But he means going in for more.
Let the wandering stranger seek to know
To what charter such “rights” are owed,
And a flush will rise to the Briton’s brow
As he answers――“You be blowed!”
There’s no end of a pull, deny it who can,
In the words, “I’m a Jingo-Englishman!”

_Punch._ November 9, 1878.

――――

THE CHANCERY COURT.

There’s a place that bears a well-known name,
Tho’ ’tis but a seedy spot;
’Tis the first in the blazing scroll of shame,
And who dare say it is not?
Of the big-wigged ones who shine and live
On laws, on “Flats” and fees,
The choicest the Devil to earth can give
In this little spot one sees;
For a gem in its way, as we’ve always been taught,
Is that grand Institution――a Chancery Court.

There’s a thing that’s a terror to every tongue,
No matter when or where,
And to treat that thing as a mere old song
Is more than the richest dare.
For the foolish spirits, who seek _that_ Court,
To its Vultures once fallen a prey,
May struggle in vain to’ escape what they sought――
_They never can get away_.
’Tis a gem in its way, spite of evil repute,
No friend sticks so close as a Chancery suit.

The Briton may traverse each legal port
And pay, yet have something to spare;
He may pass the “Insolvent Debtors’ Court,”
And merge at the most _nearly_ bare.
But if once in a Chancery suit he’s caught,
Though the world be all his own,
In those hungry clutches, ’twill be as nought,
And they’ll fight for his skin and bone.
For a gem in its way, spite of evil report,
Is the sacred shade of a Chancery Court.

From _Grins and Groans_, Social and Political, (London,
W. Swan Sonnenschein & Co.)

――――:o:――――

RULE BRITANNIA.

――――

Robert Southey calls this “the political hymn of our Country,” and it may certainly be regarded as the British National Song. There has been some controversy as to its authorship, it is generally ascribed to James Thomson, author of “The Seasons,” whilst others have assigned it to David Mallet. The arguments are too lengthy to be reproduced here, but the chief points of the discussion are to be found in letters from Mr. William Chappell, and Mr. Julian Marshall, published in “Notes and Queries,” August 14, November 20, and December 18, 1886. Possibly both Thomson and Mallet joined in the composition of the _ode_ (as they styled it), but this question can now never be authoritatively settled. No doubt exists however that the music was composed by Dr. Thomas Arne, and by it, and the chorus, Rule Britannia is known all the world over.

On the 1st August, 1740, a Masque styled _Alfred_, written by James Thomson and David Mallet, was performed in the gardens of Cliefdon House, in commemoration of the accession of George I., before the Prince and Princess of Wales. The plot of the Masque was based on the gallant struggles of King Alfred with the Danes, it abounded with patriotic allusions, and _Rule Britannia_ was thus introduced in scene 5, Act 2.

“Here is seen the Ocean in prospect, and ships sailing along. Two boats land their crews. One Sailor sings the following ode; after which the rest join in a lively Dance.”

When Britain first, at Heaven’s command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung the strain;
Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never will be slaves.

The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must in their turns to tyrants fall;
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
Rule, Britannia! &c.

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that rends the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
Rule, Britannia! &c.

Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame:
All their attempts to bend thee down
Will but arouse thy generous flame――
And work their woe, and thy renown.
Rule, Britannia! &c.

To thee belongs the rural reign:
Thy cities shall with commerce shine;
All thine shall be the subject main,
And ev’ry shore it circles thine.
Rule Britannia! &c.

The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coasts repair,
Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown’d,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves.

――――

LATIN VERSION.

Jubente cum primum Deo Britannia
Pelagi cavis recessibus caput extulit,
Ei in manus hæc charta magna tradita est,
Cælestiumque omnis melos cæcinit chorus;
_Fluctus regas, domina regas Britannia_;
_Nunquam Britannus imperanti serviet_.

Sua quamque gentium minus felicium
Manet vicissim sors, jugum hostile: interim
Tu, Nostra, pulcra, tu vigebis libera,
Gens invidenda, gens timendaque omnibus.
_Fluctus, &c._

Per damna tu cædesque surges celsior,
Ferrumque opes dabit peregrinum tibi:
Procella ceu, quæ miscet æthera et salum,
Novas tuis vires ministrat quercubus.
_Fluctus, &c._

Non te tyrannus perdomabit insolens,
Ut sæviat thronoque te dejectum eat:
Virtus tua, acriore calcare incita,
Illi ruinam, gloriam tibi pariet.
_Fluctus, &c._

Ruris colonos imperia beant tua;
Cives beant in urbibus commercia;
Tibi æquor omne obtemperabit subditum,
Et omne, cujus alluit litus, solum.
_Fluctus, &c._

Camæna, Libertatis usque hæc est comes,
Viset tuam, visamque amabit insulam;
Felix nimis! nam filias armat Venus,
Et filias qui protegant, Mars filios.
_Fluctus regas, domina regas Brittania_;
_Nunquam Brittanus imperanti serviet_.

From _Blackwood’s Magazine_. April, 1819.

――――

ELECTION SONG.

When Canning’s name was first proclaim’d,
Resounding Mersey’s strand along;
A man for worth and talents fam’d,
This was the Freemen’s fav’rite song:
Hail great Statesman! the Statesman of our choice!
We bid thee welcome and rejoice!

The Candidates opposing thee,
Must daily find their ardour cool;
Whilst thou our pride shall surely be,
Declar’d triumphant at the poll.
Hail &c.

Still as their friends assemble round,
With energy our cause to gain;
Thy foes shall sicken at the sound,
To hear the Freeman’s fav’rite strain.
Hail &c.

Our commerce round the world shall flow,
Surpassing any former time;
To thee our native town shall owe,
The right to trade to every clime.
Hail, &c.

From _An Impartial Collection of Addresses, Songs, Squibs,
&c., published during the Liverpool Election_, October 1812.

――――

RULE BRITANNIA.

When Britain first, impell’d by pride,
Usurp’d dominion o’er the main,
Blest peace she vainly threw aside,
And gave her sons the galling chain.
View, Britannia, Britannia view the waves,
On which thy darling sons are slaves.

The nations now more blest than thee
Shall see their haughty Despots fall,
What time thy hapless fate shall be
The scorn and pity of them all.
View, Britannia, &c.

Thy haughty Tyrants ne’er shall bend
The glorious cause of Freedom down;
Their rage shall fan the sacred flame,
And work their woes and her renown.
View, Britannia, &c.

Thee best becomes the contrite strain,
For cities drench’d with human gore,
For crimes which tinge the orient main,
And banish peace from Afric’s shore
View, Britannia, &c.

The Muses still with Freedom found,
Shall from thy venal court repair,
To sing on Gallia’s freer ground,
Or breathe Columbia’s purer air.
View, Britannia, &c.

From _The Wreath of Freedom, or Patriot’s Song Book_.
Newcastle 1820.

――――

A CORN LAW RHYME.

When Freedom’s foes mock’d labours’ groan,
And, drunk with power, contemn’d the throne,
God bade great William rule the waves;
And William scorn’d to govern slaves.
Rule, great William, rule the free!
William Britain’s shield will be!

On their hard hearts they ground their words,
And made them sharp as traitors’ swords,
But cower’d, like dogs, beneath his eye,
When millions shouted to the sky,
Rule, great William, rule the free!
William Freedom’s shield shall be!

He broke his bonds o’er Rapine’s head;
“Free men! Free bread!” great William said,
And like a second Alfred stood,
King of the happy and the good;
While the free, from sea to sea,
Sang, Great William rules the free!

EBENEZER ELLIOTT.

In this, Elliott’s wish was father to the thought, for William IV., did not live to see the repeal of the Corn Laws. Another long imitation of _Rule Britannia_, entitled “The Triumph of Reform,” also appears amongst the _Corn Law Rhymes_, which were collected and published by Benjamin Steill, London, in 1844.

――――

RULE SLAVEOWNIA.
(The National Hymn of the Confederate States.)

When first the South, to fury fanned,
Arose and broke the Union’s chain,
This was the Charter, the Charter of the land,
And Mr. Davis sang the strain:
Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves
“Christians ever, ever, ever have had slaves.”

The Northerns, not so blest as thee,
At Aby Lincoln’s foot may fall,
While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish fierce and free,
The whip, that makes the Nigger bawl,
Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves
“Christians ever, ever, ever should have slaves.”

Thou, dully savage, shalt despise
Each freeman’s argument, or joke:
Each law that Congress, that Congress thought so wise,
Serves but to light thy pipes for smoke.
Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves
“Christians ever, ever, ever must have slaves.”

And Trade, that knows no God but gold,
Shall to thy pirate ports repair:
Blest land, where flesh――where human flesh is sold,
And manly arms may flog that _air_,
Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves
“Christians ever, ever, ever shall have slaves.”

SHIRLEY BROOKS, 1861.

――――

HOME-RULE HIBERNIA!

When Faction at the De’il’s command
Arose within the Em’rald Isle,
This was the chorus through the land,
And traitors sang it in this style:
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

The Scotchmen not so blest as thee,
Put up with Richmond at Whitehall,
Whilst thou, with flourish fierce and free,
Wilt have Home Rule, or none at all.
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

Still more cantank’rous shalt thou rise
More dreadful from each Parnell stroke,
Till Commerce from the country flies,
And all thy native banks are broke.
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

Thee haughty Viceroys ne’er shall tame,
All their attempts to rub thee down
Will but arouse the “pathriot’s” flame,
And work their woe, but thy renown.
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

To thee belongs red Terror’s reign;
Thy cities shall with arson shine;
All thine be the shillelah’s bane,
And every head it circles thine.
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

Thee Furies, oft in Erin found,
To thy unhappy coast repair;
Green Isle, with matchless folly crown’d.
And hearts that blackguard all that’s fair.
Home Rule, Hibernia! Britannia her rule waives!
Britons ne’er shall make us slaves.

_Moonshine._ January 2, 1886.

――――

IMPERIUM ET LIBERTAS.
Competition Parodies in _The World_.

_First Prize._

When Beaconsfield, at civic board,
Uprose ’mid fellow-guests’ acclaim,
This was the welcome London roared,
Filling a bumper to his name――
Hail, Imperial, Imperial Statesman, hail!
Thy majority shall never, never fail!

Let Gladstone boast of silver axe,
And prate of upas-trees cut down;
Thine be the care of income-tax,
And thine be Turnerelli’s crown.
So hail, &c.

‘Great Gladstone, less astute than we,
From place and power defeated fell;
I taught an Empire to be free,
And grow Conservative as well.
Then hail, Imperial freedom, hail!
My majority shall never fail.

Me dissolution ne’er shall shock,
Midlothian voters ne’er dismay;
The epigrams I have in stock
Will serve me in the coming fray.
Then hail, &c.

“_Libertas et Imperium_,”
My watchword and my battle-call,
Will silence, when the elections come,
The loudest varlet of them all.
Then hail, &c.

Still more secure shall be my lease
Of Downing-street and county votes,
Whilst licensed victuallers increase,
And borough members turn their coats.
So hail, &c.

Here, when November days come round,
Is happiness enough for me:
Blest halls, where every bowl is crowned
With calipash and calipee!
Then hail, &c.

So Truscott,[22] when the circling year
Has withered all thy civic bays,
Again I’ll sip my turtle here,
And sing again an Empire’s praise.
Then hail, &c.’

COMMON PLEAS.

_Second Prize._

When on us burst, at thy command,
A party legend once again,
This was the cry throughout the land――
At least the Liberals sang the strain――
Fools! how can ye, how can ye trust such shaves?
Jingoes ever will be knaves!

The motto duly blessed by thee,
Great Earl, and by thy Tory class,
Runs ‘Government and Liberty’
(_Imperium et Libertas_).
Fools, &c.

* * * * *

(_Six stanzas omitted_).

LINDENFIELD.

_The World._ December 3, 1879.

A so-called comic song, entitled “_Brickbats never will be Slates_,” was brought out about two years ago, but it possesses no literary interest as a parody.

――――

GOD SAVE THE KING.

The most remarkable feature about “God save the King,” (or Queen) is the great uncertainty which exists as to its origin. There seems little doubt that the melody is German, but it is not known when, or by whom, it was imported, whilst the words have been handed down, with slight verbal alterations, since the days when James the First was congratulated on his escape from the Gunpowder Plot.

The words as they were then sung were written by Dr. John Bull, to whom some also ascribe the melody; Germans assert that it was imported into England by Handel, whilst others state that either Lulli, or Purcell, was the composer.

George Saville Carey claimed both the words and the melody as the productions of his father, Henry Carey (the author of “Sally in our Alley,”) and one hypothesis is, that no other song writer could have been guilty of such atrocious rhymes as are to be found in the anthem:

Victorious. Laws.
Glorious. Cause.
Over us. Voice.

There is no doubt that Henry Carey had some part in settling the words, as they are now known, whilst as to the melody the most likely supposition is that he adopted German music in honour of the House of Brunswick, for the same air was at once the Royal Hymn for Prussia, Saxony, Weimar, _Brunswick_ and _Hanover_; the German version known as “_Heil Dir im Sieger Kranz_” is still the official anthem of the German Empire. This theory is far more probable than are the various other conjectures as to its origin, such as that it was either a Scotch, French, or Jacobite Song. The grand simplicity of the air is almost sufficient proof of its German origin, and it is far more probable that it was introduced here with the Hanoverian dynasty than that an English melody should have been adopted as the Royal Hymn by nearly all the states of central Europe.

A good many years ago it was stated in Edinburgh that the manuscript memoirs of the Duchess of Perth contained an account of the establishment of St. Cyr, in which she stated that――“When the most Christian king Louis XIV entered the chapel, all the choir of noble damsels sung each time the following words, to a very fine air by the Sieur de Sully:――

Grand Dieu, sauvez le Roy!
Grand Dieu, vengez le Roy
Vive le Roy!
Que toujours glorieux,
Louis victorieux!
Voye ses ennemis,
Toujours soumis!
Grand Dieu, sauvez le Roy!
Grand Dieu, vengez le Roy!
Vive le Roy!

The tradition is, that the composer Handel, obtained leave to copy the air and words, which he submitted to George the First as his own composition.”

The importation of the air of “God save the King,” appears undeniable, but it certainly did not come from France, neither is there anything to show that Handel passed it off as his own composition. Indeed in a court mainly composed of Germans, and before a German King, to whom the air must have been familiar from early childhood, such an attempt would have been ridiculous.

Many interesting facts bearing on these disputed questions will be found in an account of the National Anthem, entitled, “God save the King,” by Richard Clarke; London, W. Wright, Fleet Street, 1822; also in “Old National Airs,” by W. Chappell; “The Music of the Church,” by Thomas Hirst; and “An Introduction to the study of National Music,” by Carl Engel, London, 1866.

These authorities are not agreed as to the origin of the melody, but they all assert that words, somewhat similar to those now in use, were written to congratulate James the First on his escape from the Gunpowder Plot, and were sung for the first time at an entertainment given to that King in July 1607 in the Hall of the Merchant Tailors’ Company, in the City of London.

Indeed, the balance of evidence tends to prove that the song never was intended for the House of Hanover, whose anthem it has become, but for the Stuart family. Up to the time of Charles I. the national anthem-sung in honour of the king was “Vive le Roy”――an English song with a Norman burden. After the revolution that made Cromwell Protector, the Cavaliers, without utterly discarding the old song, made themselves a new one――“When the King shall enjoy his own again,” which, with its by no means contemptible poetry, and its exceedingly fine music, kept up the heart of the party in their adversity, and did more for the royal cause than an army.

In the reigns of Charles II. and James II., when the King had come into the full possession of his own, the loyal song was, “Here’s a Health unto his Majesty.” Later on, when the Stuarts were in exile, it would seem that Carey revived “God save the King,” but that it did not become popular until 1745, about two years after his death.

George Saville Carey in _The Balnea_ (London, 1801) gives the following account of the origin of _God save the King_:

“In spite of all literary cavil and conjectural assertion
there has not yet appeared one _identity_ to invalidate the
truth that my father was the author of that important song,
some have given the music to Handel, others to Purcell,
some have signified that it was produced in the time of
Charles I. others James I. and some, in their slumbers,
have dreamed that it made its appearance in the reign of
Henry VIII. it might as well have been carried still
further back, to the reign of song-singing Solomon, or
psalm singing David. I have heard the late Mr. Pearce
Galliard assert, time after time, that my father was the
author of “God save the King”; that it was produced in the
year 1745-6, and printed in the year 1750, for John
Johnson, opposite Bow Church, in Cheapside. But, for the
satisfaction of my readers, I will insert the song of ‘God
save the King,’ as it is printed in the original text,
where it is called a song for two voices:――

I.

God save Great George our King
Long Live our noble King,
God save the King,
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King.

II.

O Lord our God, arise,
Scatter our enemies,
And make them fall;
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On him our hopes we fix,
God save us all.

III.

Thy choicest gifts in store,
On him be pleased to pour,
Long may he reign,
May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing, with heart and voice
God save the King.

IV.

Lord grant that MARSHALL WADE,[23]
May, by thy Mighty aid,
Victory bring;
May he sedition hush,
And like a torrent rush,
Rebellious Scots to crush,
God save the King.

There can be little doubt that Henry Carey was the author of the first three verses of this particular version of the song, but he could not have written the fourth verse, as he committed suicide in 1743, two years before the Scotch rebellion to which the verse refers.

The first time that the song or anthem of “God save the King” was made known generally to the public was at the end of the month of September, 1745 after the young Pretender’s forces had beaten Sir John Cope, and Prince Charles himself had made his triumphant entry into Holyrood Palace. “On Saturday night,” says the _Daily Advertiser_ of September 30th, 1745, “the audience at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane were agreeably surprised by the gentlemen belonging to that house performing the anthem of ‘God save our noble King.’” Another paper, the _General Advertiser_, of October 2nd, said――“At the Theatre in Goodman’s Fields, by desire, ‘God save the King,’ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, was sung with great applause.” That the song was a novelty is proved not only by these records, but by a letter from Benjamin Victor to David Garrick, bearing date October, 1745. The writer says――“The stage at both houses is the most pious as well as the most loyal place in the three kingdoms. Twenty men appear at the end of every play, and one stepping forward from the rest, with uplifted hands and eyes, begins singing to an _old anthem tune_ the following words:――

‘Oh, Lord our God, arise,
Confound the enemies
Of George our King;
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us
God save the King.

He adds, “These are the very words and music of an old anthem that was sung at St James’s Chapel for King James II., when the Prince of Orange landed to deliver us from Popery and Slavery, which God Almighty, in his goodness, was pleased not to grant.”

From that time _God save the King_ became the recognised official and loyal song, or anthem, but it is, of course, incorrect to style it the _National Anthem_, in the sense that _Rule Britannia is National_, as it is simply a prayer for the Royal Family. Richard Brinsley Sheridan wrote an impromptu verse, which was sung at Drury Lane Theatre, in 1800, on the night when Hatfield fired from the pit of that theatre at George III. It is scarcely necessary to observe that Sheridan’s verse, _as poetry_, is immeasurably superior to the older portion of the anthem:――

“From every latent foe,
From the assassin’s blow,
God save the King!
O’er him thine arm extend,
For Britain’s sake defend
Our father, prince and friend――
God save the King!”

――――

In 1795 _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ published the following Latin version:――

“DOMINE, SALVUM FAC REGEM.

O vivas, omnibus,
Salvus ab hostibus,
GEORGI, O REX!
Tibi victoriam
Deus, et Gloriam
Det, et memoriam
Optime rex.

Hostes, O Domine
Ut cadant omine
Horrido, da;
Praebe, cœlicolens,
Deus omnipotens!
Atque omnisciens,
Auxilia.

Fiat clarissimus
Et beatissimus
GEORGIUS REX;
Cujus judicio,
Cujus auspicio,
Et beneficio
Floreat lex!”

――――

On the accession of William IV. a new version of the anthem was prepared:――

God save our noble King,
William the Fourth we sing.
God save the King.
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King.

O Lord our God arise,
Guard him from enemies,
Or make them fall;
May peace with plenty crown’d
Throughout his realms abound,
So be his name renown’d,
God save us all.

Or should some foreign band
Dare to this favour’d land
Discord to bring,
May our brave William’s name,
Proud in the lists of fame,
Bring them to scorn and shame.
God save the King.

Thy choicest gifts in store
On William deign to pour,
Joy round him fling;
May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice
God save the King.

――――

VICTORY! FREEDOM! AND FOX.

Britons, let’s all unite
In defence of our _right_
And _liberty_:
For us we’ll distance drive
_Scare-Crow Prerogative_
Nor ever, whilst alive,
Cease to be free.

_Time-servers_, wond’ring, shall
View us determin’d all
Spite of the _Court_;
Spite of their wily tricks,
And _Back-stair politics_,
_Fox_ is the man we fix
On to support.

We, like _Sir Judas Wray_,
Will not our friends betray,
But, orthodox
In aid of _liberty_,
Let the whole nation see
True and staunch we will be
Ever to _Fox_.

Void of all treachery,
To guard our liberty,
Foremost stands _Fox_:
Let, then, be this our cry
Conquer, or let us die.
Huzza! boys, VICTORY!
FREEDOM, and FOX.

From _The History of the Westminster Election_, 1784.

――――

In 1790 Charles James Fox brought forward a motion in the House of Commons for the repeal of the test and corporation acts. Pitt and Burke opposed any such concession to the dissenters, and the motion was rejected by nearly three to one. A great agitation was got up, all over the country, by the Tory party, against the dissenters, who were ridiculed and abused in pamphlets, poems, and caricatures. Councillor Morfit, of Birmingham, composed a parody of _God save the King_ which became very popular, it was extensively printed with a large caricatured representation of the chief dissenters brooding over sedition. It was entitled:――

OUR MOTHER CHURCH.

God save great George our King!
Long live our noble King,
God save the King,
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King!

Old mother Church disdains
The vile dissenting strains,
That round her ring;
She keeps her dignity,
And, scorning faction’s cry,
Sings with sincerity,
God save the King!

Sedition is their creed;
_Feigned sheep_, but _wolves_ indeed,
How can we trust?
Gunpowder Priestley would
Deluge the throne with blood,
And lay the great and good
Low in the dust.

History, thy page unfold,
Did not their _sires_ of old
_Murder their King_!
And they would overthrow
King, lords and bishops too,
And, while they gave the blow,
Loyally sing,

“O Lord our God arise
Scatter our enemies,
And make them fall;
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks;
On thee our hopes we fix,
God save us all.”

――――

OLD PRICES.

A parody of _God Save the King_ circulated in Covent Garden Theatre, on the night of October 18, 1809, during the celebrated O.P. riots.

God save great Johnny Bull,
Long live our noble Bull,
God save John Bull.
Send him victorious,
Loud and uproarious,
With lungs like Boreas,
God save John Bull.

O Johnny Bull be true,
Oppose the prices new,
And make them fall;
Curse Kemble’s politics,
Frustrate his knavish tricks,
On thee our hopes we fix.
Confound them all.

No private boxes let
Intriguing ladies get,
Thy right, John Bull.
From little pigeon-holes
Defend us jolly souls;
And we will sing, by goles,
God save John Bull.

_The Covent Garden Journal._ Vol. II. London, 1810.

These volumes contain full accounts of the O.P. Riots in the new Covent Garden Theatre, which arose from some injudicious alterations made in the prices, and structural arrangements by John Kemble. He raised the prices partly in order to pay high salaries to Madame Catalani and other foreigners. The war cries of the rioters were “Old Prices! No Private Boxes! No Catalani! The English Drama!”, many songs and parodies were written to annoy Kemble, who had, eventually, to compromise matters, and Madame Catalani’s name was withdrawn from the bills. This lady had a fine voice, but was so ignorant of the English language that the following version of “God save the King” was prepared to assist her pronunciation when she had to sing the solo:――

Oh, Lord avar God
Arais, schaeter
Is enemis and
Mece them fol
Confond tear
Politekse frosstre
Their nevise trix
On George avar hopes
We fix. God save the Kin.

――――

HAIL! MASONRY DIVINE.

Hail! Masonry divine
Glory of ages shine,
Long may’st thou hold;
Where’er thy lodges stand
May they have great command,
And always grace the land:
Thou Art divine.

Great fabrics still arise,
And touch the azure skies,
Great are thy schemes;
Thy noble orders are
Matchless beyond compare,
No art with thee can share,
Thou art divine.

Hiram, the architect,
Did all the craft direct
How they should build;
Solomon, great Israel’s King,
Did mighty blessings bring,
And left us room to sing,
Hail! Royal Art.

From _The Universal Songster_.

――――

GOD SAVE THE RIGHTS OF MAN.

God save the Rights of Man,
Give him a heart to scan
Blessings so dear:
Let them be spread around,
Where ever man is found,
And with the welcome sound
Ravish his ear.

See, from the universe,
Darkness and clouds disperse;
Mankind awake;
Reason and Truth appear,
Freedom advances near,
Monarchs with terror hear;
See how they quake!

O’er the Germanic Powers
Loud indignation showers,
Ready to fall.
Let the rude savage host,
In their long numbers boast,
Freedom’s Almighty trust,
Laughs at them all.

Let us with Spain agree,
And bid the world be free,
Leading the way:
Let tyrants all conspire,
Fearless of sword and fire,
Freedom shall ne’er retire,
Freedom shall sway.

Fame let thy trumpet sound,
Tell all the world around,
Tell each degree;
Tell ribbons, crowns, and stars,
Kings, traitors, troops, and wars,
Holy Leagues, plots, and jars,
Spaniards are free.

God save the Rights of Man,
Give him a heart to scan
Blessings so dear:
Let them be spread around,
Wherever man is found,
And with the welcome sound
Ravish his ear.

From _The Wreath of Freedom, or Patriot’s Song Book_.
(J. Marshall, Newcastle. 1820.)

――――

SAVE YOURSELVES.

In 1871, Mr. Gladstone addressed a large meeting of the electors of Greenwich on Blackheath. In the course of his speech he referred to the number of reforms that had been carried out during his political career; but, he added, that whilst much remained to be done, we must not flatter ourselves that all the evils of humanity could be cured by legislation. He then quoted the first verse of the following parody, stating that he had met with it in a “questionable book.” The “questionable book” was _The Secularist’s Manual of Songs and Ceremonies_. Edited by Austin Holyoake and Charles Watts, with a Preface by Charles Bradlaugh. There was a loud outcry against Mr. Gladstone for quoting from such a source.

People throughout the land,
Join in one social band,
And save yourselves;
If you would happy be,
Free from all slavery,
Banish all knavery,
And save yourselves.

Why will you always toil,
While others share the spoil?
Work for yourselves!
Let them who live so high
Work for themselves, or try,
Tell them ’tis time to try
To keep themselves.

Parsons and peers may preach,
And endless falsehoods teach,
Think for yourselves;
Then let your watchword be
“Justice and Liberty”――
And toil unwearedly
To save yourselves.

――――

THE NATIONAL ANTHEM.
(_For use in the Bradlaughable Republic._)
God = X. Title of _Freethinker’s Text Book_.

“X” save our graceless Chief,
Reward his unbelief,
“X” save our B.
O’er Church victorious,
And Throne, once glorious,
Now sole Lord over us――
Xtol our B!

SCIENCE, our “X”! arise!
Xplode B.’s enemies,
And squash them small!
Confound their politics!
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
Oh “X”! these heretics
Xtinguish all!

Thy Xcellent gifts in store.
Great “X”! be pleased to pour,
On sacred B.!
May he repeal the laws
Which make our conscience pause,
(Oaths merely move our jaws)
And win loud lip-applause.
“X”! (_pelled_) M.P.

From _Blasts from Bradlaugh’s own Trumpet_, London:
Houlston & Sons. About 1884.

――――

“A clergyman――decidedly of the Church militant――sends us the following proposed ‘national anathema.’ His motto is from the ‘Magnificat’”:――

DEPOSUIT POTENTES DE SEDE.

Down with their lofty seats,
Down with their vain conceits,
Down with the Lords!
Confound their false pretence,
Confound their want of sense,
Confound their impudence,
Down with the Lords!

Down with their arrogant,
Reckless, extravagant,
Insolent words!
Shall they reject the bill?
Shall they dissolve at will?
Shall they obstruct us still?
Down with the Lords!

Commons of England, yet
Shall the proud Lords regret
Their futile aim.
Make then our hearts rejoice,
You are the People’s choice,
You are the People’s voice,
They but a name.

_The Pall Mall Gazette._ October 3, 1884.

――――

GOD SAVE GLADSTONE.

God save the People’s Friend!
May he our cause defend!
Trusted and brave.
Lengthen his span of years,
Deepen the tyrants fears,
Until the right appears,
Gladstone still save!

God save the noble band
Who long have led the van
Of Freedom’s host!
May faith and courage be
Watchwords of Liberty!
Until the goal we see,
Each to his post!

Gladstone, the People’s Friend!
Our aid we gladly lend
Thy work to do:
Yielding no inch of ground
He will his foes confound,
So shall our cause abound――
Liberty true.

From _Songs for Liberal Electors_, Manchester. A. Heywood
and Sons, 1885.

――――

A NATIONAL ANTHEM.
(_The Queen was to open Parliament on the 21st January._)

Soon will our gracious Queen
In town again be seen――
Our long-lost Queen;
Let us be glorious,
Yea, quite laborious
With mirth uproarious
To――oo――oo greet our Queen!

Thus will Victoria Reg.
Give us this privilege
Too seldom seen.
For she (oh, great event!)
Hath stated her intent
To o――o――open Parliament Parliament――
O――o――oh! gracious Queen!

Hail, then, with all your pow’r,
That joyous brief half-hour,
When she’ll be seen!
Thanks to our politics
(Which, through our M.P.’s tricks,
Often are in a fix)
We――e shall _see_ our Queen!

_Fun._ January 20, 1886.

――――

ADDITIONAL VERSE COMPOSED ON THE
QUEEN’S MARRIAGE.

O, grant our earnest prayer,
Smile on the Royal pair,
Bless Prince and Queen!
May Albert’s name be dear
To every Briton’s ear,
The peasant and the peer――
God save the Queen.

――――

A JUBILEE VERSION.

The Vicar of Ryde, at the conclusion of an entertainment recently held at the Town Hall, Ryde, in aid of parochial charities, called upon the audience to join in singing the National Anthem, and “gave out” an additional verse which had been written “for the occasion” was as follows:――

God bless her Majesty,
In this her Jubilee,
Long may she reign!
May she be near to us,
Ever more dear to us,
Oftener appear to us,
God save the Queen!

_Truth._ February 17, 1887.

――――

AN IMPROVED “NATIONAL ANTHEM.”

At the opening of the People’s Park, Manchester, by Prince Albert, a greatly improved “National Anthem” was sung, it would make an excellent substitute for the objectionable old version. As an improved “National Anthem,” perhaps there is none more worthy than the following, by Mr. W. E. Hickson, and its adoption would be an excellent Jubilee memento:――

God bless our native land,
May heaven’s protecting hand
Still guard our shore;
May peace her power extend,
Foe be transformed to friend,
And Britain’s power depend
On war no more.

Thro’ every changing scene
O Lord preserve our Queen,
Well may she reign.
Her heart inspire and move
With wisdom from above,
And in the nation’s love
Her throne maintain.

May just and prudent laws
Uphold the public cause,
And bless our Isle;
Home of the brave and free,
The land of liberty,
We pray that still on thee
Kind heaven may smile.

And not this land alone,
But be Thy mercies known
From shore to shore.
Let all the nations see
That men should brothers be,
And form one family
The wide world o’er.

THE SONGS OF

Mr. W. S. GILBERT.

Although Mr. W. S. Gilbert has long been before the public as a dramatist and humorous author, his chief title to fame rests upon the long series of successful comic operas produced either at the Opera Comique, or the Savoy Theatre. In all of these the quaint fancies and humorous dialogues of Mr. Gilbert, were supplemented by the brilliant and tuneful music of Sir Arthur Sullivan. Their creations, placed upon the stage with attention to every detail, and interpreted by a powerful company, have, for the last ten years, been the chief theatrical attraction, of a lighter sort, in the metropolis. The following is a list of these operas, with parodies of some of the favourite songs contained in them:――

_Thespis_; or, The Gods grown old.

_Trial by Jury._ A novel and original dramatic Cantata.
Opera Comique Theatre. 1876.

_The Sorcerer._ A modern Comic opera 1877. It was in this
opera that the inimitable actor, Mr. George Grossmith, made
his first appearance on the stage in the part of “_John
Wellington Wells, a dealer in magic and spells_.”

_H.M.S. Pinafore_; or, The Lass that loved a Sailor. An
entirely original Nautical Comic opera. Opera Comique
Theatre. May 25, 1878.

_The Pirates of Penzance_; or, The Slave of Duty. An
original Melo-Dramatic opera. Opera Comique Theatre. 1880.

_Patience_; or, Bunthorne’s Bride. An Æsthetic opera. Opera
Comique Theatre. April 23, 1881.

_Iolanthe_; or, The Peer and the Peri. An entirely original
Fairy opera. Savoy Theatre, November 25, 1882.

_Princess Ida_; or, Castle Adamant. Savoy Theatre January
5, 1884.

_The Mikado_; or, The Town of Titipu. An entirely original
Japanese opera. Savoy Theatre. March 14, 1885.

_Ruddygore_; or, The Witch’s Curse. An entirely original
Supernatural opera. (The leading word in the title was
afterwards altered to _Ruddigore_.) Savoy Theatre. January
22, 1887.

――――:o:――――

TRIAL BY JURY.

THE JUDGE’S SONG.

When I, good friends, was called to the Bar,
I’d an appetite fresh and hearty,
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I’d a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue――
A brief which I bought of a booby――
A couple of shirts and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!

_Chorus._――A couple of shirts, &c.

In Westminster Hall I danced a dance,
Like a semi-despondent fury;
For I thought I never should hit on a chance,
Of addressing a British jury――
But I soon got tired of third class journeys,
And dinners of bread and water;
So I fell in love with a rich attorney’s
Elderly, ugly daughter.

_Chorus._――So he fell in love, &c.

The rich attorney he jumped with joy,
And replied to my fond professions:
“You shall reap the reward of your pluck, my boy
“At the Bailey and Middlesex Sessions.
“You’ll soon get used to her looks,” said he,
“And a very nice girl you’ll find her!
“She may very well pass for forty-three
“In the dusk, with a light behind her!”

_Chorus._――She may very well, &c.

The rich attorney was good as his word;
The briefs came trooping gaily,
And every day my voice was heard
At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey.
All thieves who could my fees afford
Relied on my orations,
And many a burglar I’ve restored,
To his friends and his relations.

_Chorus._――And many a burglar, &c.