O! ’tis a lovely sight, Canning, O rare! Thrills each heart with delight Canning, Huzza! What! though no freeman true, What! though their eyes are blue, Still are their lips for you, Canning, Huzza! Lips whose persuasive touch, Canning, O rare! Strengthens our cause so much, Canning, Huzza! Thou’lt think when far away, Where red rose held its sway, On Bosoms, pure as day, Canning, Huzza! Heroes wait their command, Canning, O rare! When waves their lily hand. Canning, Huzza! Whilst you with smiles approve, Naught can our bosoms move, Save Mars, or God of Love, Canning, Huzza! Mark as in lines they lead, Canning, O rare! See England’s hero tread Canning, Huzza! Whose bosoms void of care, Wounds from your eyes but fear, Whence falls the tender tear, Canning, Huzza! View their faces with surprise, Canning, O rare! Lovely tints lips and eyes, Canning, Huzza! Mark coalitions wile, Join’d by a heavenly smile, That can each hour beguile, Canning, Huzza! You whom all hearts adore, Canning, O rare! ’Tis you to guard our shore, Canning, Huzza! Tell wandering nations far, Our’s is bright honour’s war, Shine Salamanca’s star, Canning, Huzza! From _An Impartial Collection of Addresses, Songs, Squibs, &c., published during the Liverpool Election_, October, 1812. The Candidates were the Right Hon. George Canning; Lieut.-General Isaac Gascoyne; Henry Brougham; Thomas Creevey; and General B. Tarleton. (Messrs. G. Canning and Gascoyne, both Tories, were elected.) ――――:o:―――― ROBERT BURNS. In order to make this collection of Scotch Parodies as nearly complete as possible, a few additional Parodies of Robert Burns, and Thomas Campbell will be here inserted. ADDRESS TO THE G.O.M. (After Burns’s _Address to the De’il_.) O thou, whatever be the name Your silly pride wad gar ye claim As likely best to spread your fame Owre land an’ sea, Great People’s Will, or G.O.M., Listen a wee. D’ye mind the time, I mind it weel, When fu’ o’ misbegotten zeal, Ye pranced through Scotland like a deil, Verbose an’ rash, Bletherin’ about the “Land o’ Leal,” An’ sic like trash?