The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed ::

Come listen, come listen, I'm going to sing
A song that's much newer than “God save the King;”
All about what I think of this wonderful Bill,
Which hasn't passed yet—can you guess when it will?
Derry down.

I hear it's to work us more wonders, some day,
Than Harlequin's wand ever did in the play;

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It's to make kings and queens out of Jack and of Jill:
Will it ever do this? Why, I don't think it will.
Derry down.

It's to make us new clothes, as I've heard people tell:
A shirt for myself, and a bonnet for Nell;
A bonnet with ribbands, a shirt with a frill;
Will it come to be true? I'll be hanged if it will!
Derry down.

It's to light us a fire, and lay us a bed;
It's to pave Holborn Hill with the best wheaten bread;
It's to bring down fine Hollands to nothing a gill—
Believe, if you like; I'll be whipped if I will.
Derry down.

It's to heal all disorders, wherever it goes,
In the feet and the hands, in the eyes and the nose;
It's to cure gout and ague, instead of a pill.
Some folks say it won't; but Lord John says it will.
Derry down.

It's to give to the troops, and the tars of the fleet,
No jacket to wear, and no pudding to eat;

161

When we've just done away with the mess and the drill,
Will we lick the Mounseers? Ask the Duke if we will.
Derry down.

It's to get us a parson, as good as St. Paul,
Who won't want a lodging or dinner at all;
He'll teach us our duties and preach us our fill,
But as for his tithes—he may starve, if he will.
Derry down.

It's to give us—good luck to it! freedom and trade;
Our goods will be sold, and our debts will be paid.
It will conjure up wealth for the ledger and till—
I wish I could only find out how it will!
Derry down.

It will bring health to sickness, and warmth to the cold,
And wit to the foolish, and youth to the old,
And soup to the saucepan, and grist to the mill—
Fine words, honest friends! But I doubt if it will.
Derry down.

It's to change, in a minute, one guinea to ten;
It's to marry our daughters to handsome young men;

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It's to make me a singer of science and skill.
If you trust all the rest, don't you trust that it will?
Derry down.

And now here's success to the ancient old cause
Of the King and the People, the Land and the Laws;
And the Devil fly away with the Whigs and the Bill!
(Don't say that I said it) I fancy he will!
Derry down.

University of Virginia Library

XI. THE BILL, THE WHOLE BILL, AND NOTHING BUT THE BILL.