YE MODERATES OF LONDON!
Ye Moderates of London
Who sat at home at ease,
Ah! little did you think upon
The dangerous C.C.'s!
While comfort did surround you,
You did not care to go
To remote
Spots to vote
When the stormy winds did blow.
The voter should have courage
No danger he should shun;
In every kind of weather
All sorts of risks should run.
Not he! So bold Progressives
Will tax him, and he'll know
He must pay
In their way,
Which is neither sure nor slow.
But when the Thames Embankment,
The finest road in town,
Is riotous with tramcars,
Will that make rates come down?
Will all these free arrangements,
Free water, gas, do so?
Oh, they may!
Who can say?
And the Companies may go.
When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL
Are censors of the play,
We can patronise the Drama
In a strictly proper way;
When PARKINSON's Inspector
Of Ballets, we shall know
He will stop
Any hop
If he sees a dancer's toe.
Such grandmaternal rulers
Will settle life for us,
And Moderates, escaping
All canvassing and fuss,
Can still, from cosy firesides,
Through three long years or so,
Watch whereat
Jumps the cat,
And which way the wind does blow.