When they’re given the toast of old England’s navee.
Like the geese of the farm-yard when summer is green,
The Cock-a-Hoop Tories at noon-day were seen,
Like the geese of the farm-yard when autumn has come,
Those Tories at midnight were nerveless and dumb.
For the King of Debate his opponents did blast,
And glared in the face of each foeman aghast,
And the hopes of the Tories waxed presently chill;
And their groans but once rose, then for ever grew still.
And the sturdy Home Rulers are loud in their cheers,