As sheep scatter wide when you leave them alone,
That host, says the Times, are now broke and o’erthrown.
For the Iron Duke set his fate on the cast,
And nailed, for the Corn-laws, his flag to the mast;
And the Cabinet’s hopes felt a sensible chill,
When they thought of the Duke, and his potent “I will.”
And there sat the Premier, his head on one side;
His arguments pooh-poohed, his statements denied;
And tho’ he tried hard, he had need of his nerve,
A decent composure of face to preserve.