Then Starkey, blaw your reed, ca' the group a' frae the dead,
Jack Coxan and Cull Billy, Judy Dowling, and Blind Willy;
Let the cavalcade move on, with a tune frae Bywell Tom,
Take a view o' wor new city, drink, and then return.
When Colossus he arose, with his Jachin and his Boaz,
His plans of such utility, of splendour and gentility,
Condemn'd was Tommy Gee, and confirm'd was Tommy B.,
And the measure seem'd to reconcile both friends and foes:
Even butchers' crabbed luiks, wi' their meat on silver huiks,
Drop all former animosities, and strut about wi' joy;
For the temple of king Solomon, for grandeur, can't follow, man—
All Europe now may shout aloud, that Dick's the boy!
Then Starkey, &c.
Old houses now beware, how you spoil a street or square,
Whatever ground you bide upon, your fate is soon decided on;
For tumble down you must, like a lump of mouldy crust,
And the Major bell will toll your fate, when all is done;
For the rich have found it out, that a camel, without doubt,
Through a needle-eye can't pass without a pilot or a foy;
The money, though conservative, will find a good preservative—
The Knight of Leazes Terrace, hinnies, Dick's the boy!
Then Starkey, &c.
Fine rows of Paphian bowers, for the fruits, and herbs, and flowers,
The baskets stand, so pretty looking—feet and tripe, a' fit for cooking—
Fountains fine and pure, that a cripple they may cure,
And babies may get baptism, for ought you know;
There's a clock to tell the time—but I now must stop my rhime,
For the feasting has begun, and each heart seems big with joy;
Then come, enjoy the treat, wi' your legs upon your feet,
Take off your hats, and shout aloud—Brave Dick's the boy!
Then Starkey, blaw your reed, ca' the group a' frae the dead,
Jack Coxon, and Cull Billy, Judy Dowling, and Blind Willy;
Let the cavalcade move on, with a tune frae Bywell Tom,
View Newcassel's famous city, drink, and then go home.
Wm. Mitford.
MORE INNOVATIONS!
Newcastle's sore transmogrified, as every one may see,
But what they've done is nought to that they still intend to dee:
There still remain some sonsy spots, pure relics of our ancient features,
O' which our canny town shall brag, while bonny Gateshead boasts sand-beaters.
The scrudg'd up Foot of Pilgrim-street, they surely will not mind,
'Tis such a curiosity—a street without an end;
Should they extend it to the Quay, and show off All Saints' Church so neatly,
It might look fine, but I'm afraid 'twould spoil the Butcher-bank completely!