Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle Edited by Alexander Rodger |
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A MOST LOYAL PEAL,
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 | Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle |  |
72
A MOST LOYAL PEAL,
IN HONOUR OF SIR ROBERT PEEL,
[_]
As chanted in a Wooden Booth, at the back of Buchanan Street, on Friday the 13th January, 1837, at the enacting of the Peel-Tory Feed and Farce.
WRITTEN BY ANDREW WHAUP O' HAZELKNOWE.
Welcome, mighty man of Tamworth,
To our Tory banquet here;
Come like lion, not like lamb, forth,
Our desponding hearts to cheer.
To our Tory banquet here;
Come like lion, not like lamb, forth,
Our desponding hearts to cheer.
Come in all thy pride and glory,
Come with all thy power and might;
With thy breath to bless each Tory,
But to blast each Whiggish wight.
Come with all thy power and might;
With thy breath to bless each Tory,
But to blast each Whiggish wight.
Prince of princely cotton-spinners,
As our chief we hail thee now;
Who would grudge a thousand dinners
To a thousand such as thou?
As our chief we hail thee now;
Who would grudge a thousand dinners
To a thousand such as thou?
Fast our Tory cause was sinking;
Murky clouds our hearts deprest;
Not a star of hope was blinking,
Save the star on Lyndhurst's breast.
Murky clouds our hearts deprest;
Not a star of hope was blinking,
Save the star on Lyndhurst's breast.
Numb'd, inert, we lay like oysters;
All was drear as death's abode;
Till auld Clutha's rotten cloisters
With phosphoric lustre glow'd.
All was drear as death's abode;
Till auld Clutha's rotten cloisters
With phosphoric lustre glow'd.
73
Thus, by light o' rotten timmer,
Were we made to see our way;
While our een wi' howlet glimmer,
Cursed the ugly glare o' day.
Were we made to see our way;
While our een wi' howlet glimmer,
Cursed the ugly glare o' day.
Monkish Greybeards, bald and hoary,
In their plenitude of power,
With a kindness truly Tory,
Help'd us in our needfu' hour.
In their plenitude of power,
With a kindness truly Tory,
Help'd us in our needfu' hour.
Yes, as if by force of magic,
Out o' darkness brought they light
And, by dint o' lear and logic,
Gart their breeklings vote aright;
Out o' darkness brought they light
And, by dint o' lear and logic,
Gart their breeklings vote aright;
Gied them mony a solemn lecture,
Did their barren minds direct;
Made them choose thee for their Rector,
And the wily Whig reject.
Did their barren minds direct;
Made them choose thee for their Rector,
And the wily Whig reject.
Hence, ten score o' bubbly blichens,
Like the geese that sav'd auld Rome,
By their gabbling (dear young chickens!)
Saved us from our threaten'd doom:
Like the geese that sav'd auld Rome,
By their gabbling (dear young chickens!)
Saved us from our threaten'd doom:
Saved us from annihilation,
Made us fix our hopes on thee;
Who, 'midst joy and tribulation,
Still our guiding star must be.
Made us fix our hopes on thee;
Who, 'midst joy and tribulation,
Still our guiding star must be.
74
Wants there proof, now, of reaction!
When a batch of beardless chaps,
Peal'd out ‘Peel’ at thy election,
And for ‘Peel’ threw up their caps?
When a batch of beardless chaps,
Peal'd out ‘Peel’ at thy election,
And for ‘Peel’ threw up their caps?
From the mouths of babes and sucklings
Here was wisdom perfected;
O, the dear young dainty ducklings,
What sweet quacking then they made.
Here was wisdom perfected;
O, the dear young dainty ducklings,
What sweet quacking then they made.
Hence, let honours be decreed them;
Round their necks be garlands hung;
Out o' siller dishes feed them;
Be their praises ever sung:
Round their necks be garlands hung;
Out o' siller dishes feed them;
Be their praises ever sung:
That their deeds may live in story
After they are dead and gone,
Pointing to each future Tory,
Where to rest his hopes upon.
After they are dead and gone,
Pointing to each future Tory,
Where to rest his hopes upon.
As our sires, when we were younkers,
To Pitt's image bent the knee;
So, on our obsequious hunkers,
Here, great Peel! we worship thee.
To Pitt's image bent the knee;
So, on our obsequious hunkers,
Here, great Peel! we worship thee.
Here, we lowly bend before thee;
Here, we kiss thy muckle tae;
Here, enraptured, we adore thee,
And for thy assistance pray.
Here, we kiss thy muckle tae;
Here, enraptured, we adore thee,
And for thy assistance pray.
75
Save us, then, from wheedling Whiggies;
Save us, too, from rampant Rads;
Save our sacred gowns and wiggies
From those vile, rapacious squads.
Save us, too, from rampant Rads;
Save our sacred gowns and wiggies
From those vile, rapacious squads.
Save our throne and save our altars,
Places, pensions, O preserve;
To the Rads gie chains and halters—
Richly they such things deserve.
Places, pensions, O preserve;
To the Rads gie chains and halters—
Richly they such things deserve.
Save Hereditary Wisdom
From the rabble's wicked fangs;
Save the whisker'd Duke from his doom,
For on him our safety hangs.
From the rabble's wicked fangs;
Save the whisker'd Duke from his doom,
For on him our safety hangs.
Save our Kirk and save our steeple,
Save our Poopit and our bell;
That we still may awe the people
Wi' the terrors o' a hell:
Save our Poopit and our bell;
That we still may awe the people
Wi' the terrors o' a hell:
That we still may keep them under;
Mak' them toil, that we may eat;
Be allowed to fleece and plunder,
And tak' ease while others sweat.
Mak' them toil, that we may eat;
Be allowed to fleece and plunder,
And tak' ease while others sweat.
Up, then, mighty man of Tamworth,
Seize again the helm o' state;
Melbourne—poh! he's not a d---n worth—
Mak' him quickly tak' the gate!
Seize again the helm o' state;
Melbourne—poh! he's not a d---n worth—
Mak' him quickly tak' the gate!
76
Drive the Whigs and Rads to ruin,
Turn them to the right about;
Else they'll work our sad undoing,
If not smartly a' kick'd out.
Turn them to the right about;
Else they'll work our sad undoing,
If not smartly a' kick'd out.
O, that Vicky, some dark morning,
Wad be pleased to cut her stick;
And auld Willy get his warning,
Soon we'd send the Whigs to Nick.
Wad be pleased to cut her stick;
And auld Willy get his warning,
Soon we'd send the Whigs to Nick.
By the adored grey moustachios
Of the saintly Cumberland,
Not a rascal then durst fash us,
While we ruled with mighty hand.
Of the saintly Cumberland,
Not a rascal then durst fash us,
While we ruled with mighty hand.
Every foe we'd put to rout then,
Through the land our spies should prowl;
Not a Whig durst show his snout then,
Not a Rad durst gie a growl.
Through the land our spies should prowl;
Not a Whig durst show his snout then,
Not a Rad durst gie a growl.
Reinstated in our places,
Then how happy should we be,
Midst a group of jolly faces,
Ruled by Cumberland and thee.
Then how happy should we be,
Midst a group of jolly faces,
Ruled by Cumberland and thee.
| Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle | |