But Gladdy poring o'er the bill to set the yokels free.
He caught my eye and shook, Staffy—I eyed him like a hawk!
But I'm to be Cock o' the Walk, Staffy, I'm to be Cock o' the Walk.
The hinds may reap and sow, Staffy, but ere that measure pass,
The cows will get the franchise as they munch the meadow grass;
There will not be a vote for Hodge, if only the bill we baulk,
And I'm to be Cock o' the Walk, Staffy, I'm to be Cock o' the Walk.
All the Tories, Staffy, will obstruct it with a will,
And the swift foot and the slow foot will mash and maul the bill;
And the G.O.M. will fret and fume like fizz when you draw the cork,