These gardens you so much admire,
Each hedgerow, each copse, every tree,
Is the owner's bequeathed from his sire.
He may have remitted his rents!
What of that till the Nation cries "Quits!"
His land, with the march of events,
Being purloined and cut up into bits?
For until to its true owner, Hodge, it reverts,—
He's a brigand, and merits a brigand's deserts!
[At the conclusion of the ballad Mr. Joseph Arch gives a signal and the Owner of the Property is led on in the custody of Trade-Union Myrmidons.