To Local Optionists who long
To hold the land in leading-strings,
By boldly banning liquors strong,
For lemonade and such sweet things.
To all who 'neath our watery skies,
Would English wits with water whelm,
To Toastandwaterdom's swift rise,
Till the Good Templar rules the realm,
Slops all round!
Heaven the Wittler's hopes confound!