Legal & Other Lyrics By George Outram: Containing a number of new pieces & fifteen illustrations by Edward J. Sullivan |
 |
|
|
THE REFORM BILL |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | Legal & Other Lyrics |  |
86
THE REFORM BILL
Oh! weary fa' Reform an' Whigs!
That ever they were invented!
An' wae's me for my auld gudeman,
He's fairly gane demented:
He grunts and growls frae morn to night
About pensions an' taxation:
He's ruined wi' meetin's got up for the gude
O' the workin' population.
That ever they were invented!
An' wae's me for my auld gudeman,
He's fairly gane demented:
He grunts and growls frae morn to night
About pensions an' taxation:
He's ruined wi' meetin's got up for the gude
O' the workin' population.
The ne'er a turn o' wark he'll do
To save us frae starvation;
He leaves his horse to sort the coo,
For he maun sort the nation.
The fient he'll do but read the news—
An' he reads wi' sic attention,
That his breeks are a' worn out in a place
Which I'm ashamed to mention.
To save us frae starvation;
He leaves his horse to sort the coo,
For he maun sort the nation.
The fient he'll do but read the news—
An' he reads wi' sic attention,
That his breeks are a' worn out in a place
Which I'm ashamed to mention.
He gangs to publics ilka night,
An' ilka groat he'll spend it,
An' how he gets hame in siccan a plight
I canna comprehend it.
An' then my sons, like three wee Hams,
Laugh at their drucken daddie,
As doun on the floor wi' a clout he slams.
Wi' een like a Monday's haddie.
An' ilka groat he'll spend it,
An' how he gets hame in siccan a plight
I canna comprehend it.
An' then my sons, like three wee Hams,
Laugh at their drucken daddie,
87
Wi' een like a Monday's haddie.
Afore the Whigs began their rigs,
He was anither creature;
His een were bright as stars at night,
An' plump was every feature.
His brow was like the lily white,
His cheek as red as roses;
He had a back like Wallace wight,
An' a thicker beard than Moses.
He was anither creature;
His een were bright as stars at night,
An' plump was every feature.
His brow was like the lily white,
His cheek as red as roses;
He had a back like Wallace wight,
An' a thicker beard than Moses.
But now he's lost his comely look,
An' lost his stalwart figure;
His een are sinkin' into his head,
An' his nose is growin' bigger.
His houghs are gane, an' when nicht sets in,
He's fusionless as a wether;
His back sticks out, an' his wame's fan in—
An' he's a' reformed thegither!
An' lost his stalwart figure;
His een are sinkin' into his head,
An' his nose is growin' bigger.
His houghs are gane, an' when nicht sets in,
He's fusionless as a wether;
His back sticks out, an' his wame's fan in—
An' he's a' reformed thegither!
Oh! dinna ye mind, my auld gudeman,
When first we cam' thegither,
How cheerily our wark gaed on,
How pleased we were wi' ither?
Our lives passed away like a Sabbath-day
When the distant bells are ringin';
An' your breath was sweet as the new-mawn hay,
An' no like a rotten ingan.
When first we cam' thegither,
How cheerily our wark gaed on,
How pleased we were wi' ither?
88
When the distant bells are ringin';
An' your breath was sweet as the new-mawn hay,
An' no like a rotten ingan.
Oh! think what was't ye wanted then,
An' see what now ye're brocht to!
Ye're far waur aff than ever you were
Before Reform was thocht o':
For then, when you wanted a sark to your wame,
Ye made an unco wark, man:
But what's to be done wi' you now, when you want
A wame to pit in your sark, man?
An' see what now ye're brocht to!
Ye're far waur aff than ever you were
Before Reform was thocht o':
For then, when you wanted a sark to your wame,
Ye made an unco wark, man:
But what's to be done wi' you now, when you want
A wame to pit in your sark, man?
Oh! gin ye wad but mind your pleugh,
An' mind your empty pockets,
'Twere wiser-like than drink an' read
Your een out o' their sockets.
Leave them that kens to mak' the laws—
An' while your breeks will mend, man,
Just leave the nation to look to itsel',
An' look you to your hinner end, man!
An' mind your empty pockets,
'Twere wiser-like than drink an' read
Your een out o' their sockets.
Leave them that kens to mak' the laws—
An' while your breeks will mend, man,
Just leave the nation to look to itsel',
An' look you to your hinner end, man!
| Legal & Other Lyrics | |