To think such coach they ne’er would see until next Lord Mayor’s Show.
From the Guildhall to Westminster, whene’er that pageant passed,
The tide of business there was slow, as on a day of fast;
Girls rushed to doors and windows, men climbed on gates and walls,
Right loud and clear the bells all day rang out from great St. Paul’s;
The sentinel on Whitehall Gate looked neither left nor right,
But as he looked straight to his front he must have seen the sight.
At Westminster it paused, and then down Thames Embankment wound,
While thicker still became the throng, and louder still the sound,
Till, Guildhall reached, it halted, while the Mayor in state descends