TO THE 'LECTORS OF LAMBETH.

GENTLEMEN ! I now declares, myself a Can-di-date,
Whene'er a tunity occurs, to sarve you in the State,
My principles they is well known—you've hard'em much of late,—
I likes to be a useful man, and so I'll Legislate.

The first thing I intends to do—as its caused a great sensation,
Is to move, ( when I am in the House, ) you all has Heddycation,
It tends so much to 'lighten us, and make us such good Souls,
That none will then be cotched in nets, tho' we goes along in shoals.

The 'jority of Ireland, you noes, are Roman Catholics,
And when religion's in the way—then drown your politics ;
Let Ireland have Repeal I say—grant all her wants forsooth,—
Her Parliaments, on College Green—and keep her own Maynooth.

Free trade I am opposed to—therefore with all my Mussels,
I will support Lord George you'll find, 'gainst the Peels & Russells.
I'm not a Chartist, nor a Whig, nor Radical, nor Tory,
My name is John, therefore a Jack—resembling John o' Dory.

The hackney'd cry of ' hear, hear, hear, ' I shall 'deavor to excel,
And when a man says something good—cry out—"Yer Mackerel"
And should ever we be pestered much, by an over dose of gammon,
This Cry I will then substitute—'Here's fine Newcastle Salmon.'

Some talks about this here and that, and makes a finish tale—
Give Ireland all she wants indeed, that's werry like a Whale,
Lord John and Hawes they are two Shrimps, & Peel he is a Shark,
He's turned his back upon his friends, and stabb'd em in the dark.

I thinks as how you'll think that I'm, a candid Candidate,
Cos vot I does, or thinks, or says, be's yours at any rate ;
And when any speaks upon a pint, which they doesn't know about,
I'll interrupt them with the cry—" Does your Mother know
you're Out !"

I am a man vots always been, werry fond of GAME,
The Law is good—the sport is pure—and led me on to FAME!!
If English men were all like me, and all had Lobsters claws,
The Loaves and Fishes they would share, as well as Muster Hawes.

There is some queerun's in the world—that wants a looking arter,
The 'Conners & the Thomsons who's for " The People's Charter;"
You noes that I'm just sich a man—to meet sich men as these,
If words won't do—why then to blows—and up I tucks my sleeves.

I'll never Carp with any Crab—prefers a Plaice—to Flounder,
And should Lord John a " White Bait" lay—the line I'll break
assunder !
Nor will Sprats to catch a Herring take, whilst I am in my senses,
And if the CODS won't stop to hear—I'll speak to Empty Benches.