(_AFTER GOLDSMITH, MORE OR LESS._)
Good patriots all of every sort,
Give ear unto my song,
For if in substance it is short,
In moral it is strong.
[Illustration]
At Hawarden lived a Grand Old Man,
Of whom the world might say,
A wondrous lengthy race he ran,
And won it all the way.
[Illustration]
Some swore he'd veer to catch a vote;
Old age to flout one loathes,
But, if he never turned his coat,
He often changed his clothes.
[Illustration]
Hard by an Irish dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Hibernian mongrel, puppy, hound,
And curs of low degree.
This dog and man at first seemed friends,
But, when a pique began,
The dog, to gain his private ends,
Went mad, and bit the man!
[Illustration]
To see so strange and sad a sight
Quidnuncs and _gobemouches_ ran,
And swore the dog was rabid quite
To bite that Grand Old Man.
[Illustration]
The wound indeed seemed sore and sad
To every party eye,
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man must die.
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