And the pale and angry Tories sat impatient of the battle.
And the benches of the Commons, where they love a fight, grew full;
And, although they knew 'twas better not to hurry people's cattle,
They implored their fiery Colonel to oblige them with a bull.
But the Colonel needs no prompting, straight rises to address them,
And his eye now flames in fury, and now twinkles like a star;
And he turned on Mr. PARNELL'S men, and didn't rightly bless them,
This flashing, dashing, slashing militaire from North Armagh.
And before a man could whistle there were ructions and denials,
Shouts and countershouts of anger—quite a House of Commons scene;