Poor "Bully," sung by Cowper in his pretty plaintive verse,
It is thus thine ancient character they (let us hope) asperse.
"The gardener's chief enemy," so angry scribes declare,
And the cause why ribstone pippins and prime biggaroons are rare.
Little birds, my pretty "Bully," should all diet upon worms,
And grub on grubs, contented, not on fruit-buds and young germs
Vain your pretty coat, my "Bully," beady eyes, and pleasant pipe,
If you will not give our fruit-crops half a chance of getting ripe.
Let us hope that they traduce you, all this angry scribbling host
Of horticultural zealots who abuse you in the Post.