Attir’d in his sombre dress,
With piercing eyes Mac Gladstone stood
(His tie awry, his locks of grey
Had not known comb for many a day),
And with a silvery tongue and eyes that flamed
He thus to canny Scots declaimed:—
“Behold, in each event of this strange time
A thousand signs the Tories’ reign is o’er;
For thee, oh Benjamin, thou man of crime,
A deadly retribution is in store!