When Parliament was fresh and young,
While yet election squibs were sung,
The M. P.’s throng’d to take their seats,
Through London’s country-leading streets,
Exulting, trembling, burning, glowing,
With patriotic zeal o’erflowing,
By turns they felt the teeming mind
To silence forced, to speak inclined;
Till once, ’tis said, when all were fired,
Fill’d with speeches, rapt, inspired,