You—the Lord Knows-who, and lady,
You—the Lord, shoddy-mixer,
You—the almighty working man,
Patient grumblers of England.
You—all sorts of men—and others,
Irish, Yankee, dynamiters—
All your hearts be in harmony,
All your pockets open lib’rally
To the numerous funds in progress,
Gilding the year of Jubilee.