He talks no more of "Ransom"
('Tis P-e-n-s-i-o-n rather now),
Brum JOE will not go
Where the Hawarden winds do blow;
Where HARCOURT thunders loud and long,
And Gladstonians blare and blow.
The Orchid from his button
JOE's willing to displace,
To take the Primrose posy
That's proffered by Her Grace.
O gentle dame and dainty,
What man could answer "No!"
As you prest to his breast
The most blessed flowers that blow,
The blossoms loved by BEACONSFIELD
The bravest blooms that blow?
O (Brummagem) Tory Beauty,
'Tis yours to consecrate
The holiest Alliance
Our land hath seen of late.
Shall he reject its symbol,
Or answer "Not for JOE!"?
Nay, sweet girl, such a churl
Were no "Gentleman" you know;
And JOE is "quite the Gentleman,"
Brum BRUMMEL in full blow!
Then courage, all brave Unionists,
And never be afraid
Whilst Brummagem Republican
Is witched by Primrose Maid.
There is soft fascination
In radiant rank, we know;
And a posy, though primrosy,
From soft hands makes soft hearts glow,
Lilies--though they toil not nor spin
Are beauteous--in full blow!
[Footnote 1: Mr.
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