Then, as to your "Squadrons," your "Mount for Repeal,"
'Twas merely to teach them the "Right about wheel,"
By the word of command from the Saxon to run,
As your leader would fly from a bailiff or dun;
In short, since a miss is as good as a mile,
Swear the whole was a humbug for Erin's green isle.
Besides, these are delicate moments to croak,
Since the Saxon's new plan of a word and a stroke.
My mind is made up, like a poodle or pug,
No longer to stir from my berth on the rug;