Then shook the streets to riot given,
Then rushed King Mob to havoc driven,
And louder than the bolts of Heaven
They roared in all their devilry.
But more defiant yet they grow,
As down South Audley Street they go,
Bottles and legs of mutton throw
In Socialistic bravery.
The havoc deepens! On, ye brave,
To win no glory—risk no grave—