In loud paradoxical words,
As a titled Premier of the Commons, would shout,
"Down down with the House of Lords."
But still, 'twas a hopeful, and beautiful proof,
That the cause of the toiler, was just,
And he wouldn't have to wait, very long for a snack,
From the sugar ornamented upper crust,
In a very little time, he'd be gathering his whack,
From the azure-fired diamond—upper dust,
"You'll be having a millenium of it yet, working men,