They call me a converted Jew,
Bad luck to Bright and Gladstone too,
They mean to drive me crazy.
I never thought they’d turn me out,
For well I knew my way about,
But I am licked without a doubt,
So pity poor Benjamin Dizzy.
Oh! if I could Bill Gladstone thump,
I’d burst his nose, and kick his r—p;
If like Jack Heenan I could fight,