At East and West, 'mong gents and cits, there's many a crooked way,
And holes and corners dark enough, without a "Settling Day."
I bade her look at Temple Bar,—that venerable pile;
Its mould'ring stones and rotten gates, and then she gave a smile
She thought upon the bleeding heads, and plaintively did say:
"I hope for that dear obstacle there'll be no 'Settling Day.'"
Tho' St. John Long (I said) is gone,—that curer of all ills,—
We still have modest Morison's fam'd Vegetable Pills;
Then think upon the Pension List, where stand, in grand array,
A splendid train, who take their cash on ev'ry "Settling Day."