Then come, the last crown of thy toils is remaining,
The greatest, the grandest that thou hast yet known;
Though proud was thy task my placard-board sustaining,
Still prouder to utter placards of thine own!
High perch'd on that counter, where Carlile once stood,
Issue torrents of blasphemy, treason, and shame,
While snug in your box,
Well secur'd with two locks,
We'll defy them to get little Waddington's name.