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LET ENGLAND'S OLD WOMANHOOD TREMBLE NO MORE, by                     Poet's Biography
Last Line: As the showman some night makes a tumbler of punch!


Let England's old womanhood tremble no more,
āàLet the Peelites securely dine, breakfast, and lunch;
Though O'Connell makes burning harangues by the score,
āàStill he can't, or he will not, cut capers like Punch!

Though the wrongs of the people in number exceed
āàThe potatoes that Irishmen saltlessly munch,
Let the cock-a-hoop Tories ne'er stop to take heed,
āàFor-O'Connell's not half such a grinner as Punch!

There were mighty strange things done by Merlin of yore,
āàAnd queer tales are narrated of old Mother Bunch;
But a wonder like this was ne'er heard of before,
āàThat injustice shall rule, since-O'Connell's not Punch!

And thou, Ireland, who stoodest so straight t'other day,
āàThou stoopest anew like a man with a hunch,
Since the ass of the Herald came out with his bray,
āàThat-in short that O'Connell's no puppet, like Punch!
Oh! there's only one chance that can save us from wreck,
āàAnd help Dan to get rid of his foes in a bunch-
That the puppet may break, by good fortune, his neck,
āàAs the showman some night makes a tumbler of Punch!






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