But when its last link leaves our shore,
We’ll rest ’neath the old umbrella once more.
Poll, brothers, poll, &c.
Politics’ tide, this July moon
Shall see us float proudly, or sink full soon;
King of the green isle hear our prayers,
Oh, grant in this crisis thy favouring airs.
Poll; brothers, poll, &c.
Roggee Shurt.
Truth. Parody Competition. July 15, 1886.