Westminster's

                  GLORY!

" Be these juggling Whigs no more believed, "
" That palter with us in a double sense. "
" To lure us to our ruin ! "
                                                                Shakespeare

                    SONG.

IF Britons be true to themselves and their cause,
If they hold to their old Constitution and Laws,
O'er the land of their sires where Oppressors now tread,
They may yet see the Su ams of Liberty shed,

                            CHORUS.

Freedom still shall be ours—tho' to tarnish its glory.
Corruption hath dove tail'd the Whig and the Tory.

Long England, our Country, in apathy lay,
Till Westminster's triumph proclaimed the bright day,
When awaking from slumber the People arose—
Scar'd trembling, and Vanquish'd, away, slunk their
                foes.

Freedom still shall be ours—tho' to tanish its glory,
Corruption hath dove-tail'd the Whig and the Tory.

Like the flame from a Watch-tower on some lonely
                height.
That casts its beams brighter the darker the night ;
Burdett held the Banner of Freedom unfurl'd,
Whilst the dun clouds of Slavery incircled the World.

Freedom still shall be ours—tho' to tarnish its glory,
Corruption hath dove-tail'd the Whig and the Tory.

To destroy our best friend how extremes now unite,
And new Miracles rise to astonish our sight ;
Men of Westminster look—there the wonder yo see
Lo the Oil and the Vinegar kindly agree.

Freedom still shall be ours—tho' to tarnish its glory,
Corruption hath dove-tail'd the Whig and the Tory.
To contend for your rights, want ye talents and power,
Seek the honest and brave for the dread trying hour ;
The day yet is yours—your sun is not set.
Your Champions are ready, Hoshouse true, and Bur
                DETT.

Freedom still shall be ours—tho' to tarnish its glory,
Corruption hath dove-tail'd the Whig and the Tory,

J. Pitts, Printer, 14, Great st, Andrew street,

[NLS note: a graphic appears here – see image of page]

                  Hobhouse

            AND REFORM.

J. Pitts, Printer, 14, Great st. Andrew Street

AS George Lamb is determin'd to sit in
Saint Stephen's, (and Evans
He's supported by Whigs- by Mc'Donald
But the weather is cold and I beg that bald
                Prig,
To cover his head with Mc'Donald's old
                Wig.

D.—n the Committee it's a shame and a
                pity,
That any but Hobhouse should sit for our
                city.

For Reform let me tell you this Lamb is no
                Glutton,              (yellow Mutton,
Trust Him with your Rights, he'll turn out
He's the Regent's own Lamb, and I'll tell
                you his wish is,
To get in the House for the Loaves and
the fishes.
                D.—n &c.

In Lottery time there's no want of a puff,
On his Canvass no doubt he has promised
                enough ;
Your Suffrage he asks for Westminster to
                sit,
In his own Words my Friends, bid him
                " Whistle for it. "
                D.—n, &c.

Be true to yourselves and you've nothing
                to fear,
From such Whig—Wolves, or Lambs, in
                their bleating career ;
Prove to those who by Falsehood, your
                judgment would chouse,
You're resolved to be free, by returning
                Hobhouse.
                D.—n, &c .