The last made of our Peers,
Who joins our legislative body
Amidst a nation’s jeers.
As M.P. he could not do duty,
His brain had grown too soft;
So—mark our Constitution’s beauty—
He’s now been sent aloft!—aloft!
He’s now-ow been—ah sen-n-n-n-t a-a-loft!
Lord Tom for nothing good was noted,
Of virtues he had none;