CRUEL KING COAL.
Cruel King Coal over London town
Evermore year by year doth reign;
He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,
And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.
Cruel King Coal doth his greatness air
In a flaming coach of state reclined;
And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,
And the little boys run and shout behind.
How did it happen to this King Coal
That he came to be called by the name of Cruel?
'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,
By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.
Cruel King Coal and his merry men,
Twenty and five fat rogues were they,
Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,
And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.
Measuring that which they never mete.
Making good losses themselves should stand,
And rebuilding here and there a street,
Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.
Even the load that a donkey draws,
These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,
Twenty miles around London Town; by laws
Through Parliament slipped by sly King Coal.
Picking and filching, this cruel King
First on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;
Next upon such as canal did bring,
Then on those by Queen's highway and rail conveyed.
Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,
He levied the tax in time gone by;
But the Commons his art contrived to blind,
And the distance is now as crow doth fly.
Drawback His Majesty granteth not
Twenty good tons on a weight below;
And the boiling of every humble pot
The old fellow doth render the dearer so.
Cruel King Coal doth feed and stuff,
Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;
Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,
Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.
Cruel King Coal shall we suffer more
To blow himself out by extortion dire?
Shall we let him continue to starve the poor
By the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?