AN OLD AND CURIOUS SONG,

My good Mr. Pun, We know you like fun, And also to crack a good joke; 'Tis well known in the nation, That our Corporation Has long lain under a cloak. Fal lal de ral, &c. But after your year, How strange 'twill appear, (Pray Heaven it prove for your good,) To all the whole nation, That our Corporation Will then crouch under a Hood.[42] Now, we poor folks, Who're not us'd to jokes, But with the sweets take the bitters— The folks in our station Think our Corporation Has long been outfitted by Fitters. Oh, Watty! Oh, Watty![43] Shouldst thou now see Natty, And his clan, how thickly they lay't on; You'd say, in their order, Mayor, Commons, Recorder, Are all now outwitted by Cl——n. From the days of good Walters, To his who makes halters,[44] Such changes have here taken place, That from its high station, Our poor Corporation Has sunk into abject disgrace. When the Alderman's gown Was hawk'd about town, And none would be found for to lay't on, Up stepp'd brother Bob, And settled the job, And he was dubb'd Alderman C——n. Yet think not, that though such, He'll quit the Town's Hutch, Or any thing there let miscarry; Still there he'll give law, Rule by his cat's paw, The ever obliging Old Harry. Ye honest electors, Our faithful protectors, In you there can never be blame; As by following the Mayor. And supporting the chair, We always must vote for the same. Ye scum of the bowl, In vain you may growl, Like the swinish group in a storm, Nat will rule the roast, And still make a boast, That danger lies not in Reform.[45]