It fell amongst the fir-tree tops;
For though a pheasant’s flight is strong,
A cock, hard hit, cannot fly long.
Soon, soon afterwards, in a pie,
I found the birds in jelly lie;
And the pheasant, at a fortnight’s end,
I found again in the carte of a friend.
Punch, October 12, 1867.
Ballad. The Ex-Premier.
(Mr. Gladstone).