True Paisley cloth, and of the best,
Presented by admiring Scots
Who gave him presents, lots on lots.
“Ah, now,” he cried, in accents gay,
“I think I’ll take a walk to-day;
The crowd that oft my footsteps dogs,
Will never know me in these togs;
Not one can recognise in me,
The potent statesmen, W.G.!”
He first from Richmond Terrace hied,