Raise the mighty mistress President,
Waving high the delicate President, over all the Lady President (bend your heads all),
Raise the warlike Mrs. M-ss-ngb-d, stern impassive Mrs. M-ss-ngb-d,
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
This sort of thing goes on for about twenty more verses, for which readers are kindly referred to the original in Leaves of Grass. It really applies without any further adaptation.
A "MAN IN ARMOUR" TO THE MULTITUDE.
On Lord Mayor's Day.
Remember, remember, the Ninth of November!
A civic procession you've got!
I know no reason why L. C. C. treason
Should send the old custom to pot.
There is a great glamour about men in armour,
Will London turn out all a-pant
At sound of the bugle to stare at Mcdougall,
Or hear Mrs. Ormiston Chant?
Though city crowds hurtle to welcome the turtle,
And shout at the Mayor and the mace;
What Council Committee will choke up the City
With mobs and a smile on each face?
The old "panorama"'s a popular drama.
An alderman may be a glutton;
But multitudes jog after Magog and Gog
Who don't care a button for Hutton.
So remember, remember, the Ninth of November!
A holiday glorious you've got;
But "unification" will rob the whole nation
Of one good old spree—which is rot!
Footnotes
[1] Iliad, B. V., 478.
Transcriber's Note: