Wakley, as wears his hair all over his
coat collar,
Hav'n't they frightened Mr. Tooke, who once said he could beat them
_Hollar_?
Then at Lambeth, ain't Mr. Baldwin and Mr. Cabbell been both on 'em
bottled
By Mr. D'Eyncourt and Mr. Hawes, who makes soap yellow and mottled!
And hasn't Sir Benjamin Hall, and the gallant Commodore Napier,
Made such a cabal with Cabbell and Hamilton as would make any chap queer?
Whilst Sankey, who was backed by a _Cleave_-r for Marrowbone
looks cranky,
Acos the electors, like lisping babbies, cried out "_No Sankee?_"
Then South'ark has sent Alderman Humphrey and Mr. B. Wood,
Who has promised, that if ever a member of parliament did his duty--he
would!
Then for the Tower Hamlets, Robinson, Hutchinson, and Thompson, find
that they're in the wrong box,
For the electors, though turned to Clay, still gallantly followed
the Fox;
Whilst Westminster's chosen Rous--not Rouse of the Eagle--tho' I once
seed a
Picture where there was a great big bird, very like a _goose_, along
with a Leda.
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