No ermine cloak was around him,
Yet he stood like a man who had feathered his nest;
And he smiled at us all, confound him!
We thought, as we left with a silent tread,
Of Cross and his dreadful Water,
That the Liberals would soon be seen there instead,
And we far away from that quarter.
Lightly they'll talk of us when we have gone,
And of course they've a right to abuse us;
But little we'd care if they'd let us keep on