For there’s ne’er a Yankee of any size,
No matter how sharply he chaffs or slangs,
That can boast he ever has taken a rise
On Professor Luther Cranmer Bangs.
He was the man whom Dr. Snayle
Read a lecture to on a morning call—
Read it clear through from bill to tail;
And Bangs like Old Piety bore it all.
Said Snayle, when the sheets were all up-read,
“I’m a-going with this to Boston, you know”—