He knows very well, &c.
So Lord Fitz in Bel-gra-vi-a biteth his nails,
Minus Parliament honours, and “posh,”
And he thinks, as do most, till the Ballot prevails,
There’ll be many more Cities like Bosh-osh-osh,
That there’ll be more elections like Bosh.
——:o:——
THE BROWN JUG.
(From the Opera of the “Poor Soldier,” by J. O’Keeffe. The song itself is attributed to the Rev. Francis Fawkes, who imitated it from the Latin of Hieronymus Amaltheus.)
Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale