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Yet—oh yet—yourselves deceive not—
Though it be a bore to stay,
Thus to treat your Chief, believe not,

Can to office pave the way.

Still those ministerial faces
Grin at us—still ours look blue—
And — our curse!—they keep their places

Still, whate'er we say or do.

Then when “Ay,” they loudly hollow,
Will ye stoutly echo “ No!”—

And are all prepared to follow
When I to the lobby go 2–

If my rival BRough AM should press ye,
Listen not to him, I pray-
Will ye sorely thus distress me,

Poor old Snouch thus turn away?

Should his speeches e'er resemble
Those which you have heard from me–
Well the Government might tremble

Two such orators to see.

All my jokes—you know but too well—
All my dulness—none can know.—
But our common hopes to do well,

Wither—if you treat me so.

All our confidence is shaken,
One may come, but many go;
By Methuen join’d—by Leech forsaken-

E’en BANKEs begins to smoke us now.

But 'tis done—debates are idle—
Speeches from me are vainer still;
And Members whom no places bridle

Must play the truant, when they will.

Then fare ye well!—thus disunited
Like you was never party seen—
Nor coughed—and quizzed—and sneered—and
slighted,

Like me has any leader been.

ENGLISH MELODIES.

No. VI.

The following original Song has been sent to us from Nottingham —It seems to be in praise of the worthy Member” for that Town. We wish the Correspondent who has been so good as to transmit it had intimated the Air to which it is to be sung; it could not fail to become popular.

• John Smith, Esq. seems about this time to have taken more part than usual in the proceedings of the House of Commons.—E •

I.
While every tongue,
Both old and young,
From Penzance to Penrith,
Is hymning PAUL,
Will no one call

Their thoughts to Handsome SM1th.

II.
Taste, wit, and sense—
Without pretence—
Though PAUL be furnish'd with:
They scarcely are
Above the par
Of those of Handsome SMITH.

III.
Wise Nature chalks
Them different walks;

Through Piccadilly's width
Though PAUL may stride,
Yet gay Cheapside

Exults in Handsome SMITH.

IV.
Tho' Flood's the pride
Of Slaney's tide,
And FINLAY of the Nith ;
Old Father Thames
A triumph claims

O'er both, in Handsome SMITH.

V.
With blooming grace
- He decks his face,
And smiles to shew his teeth;
And old three-score
Ne'er saw before

A Beau like Handsome SMITH.

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