A Parliamentary Legend.
The Marquis Bobby sat down one day,
Feeling himself in a very bad way:
His was the delicate porcelain clay
Not made for the shelf, like mere common delf,
And he felt that the world wanted something—himself;
For he loved to stand in the light of day,
To have his own way, and to say his own say—
To slaughter and gibbet and mangle.
Now he thought to himself, here’s the devil to pay,