March, march, Make-rags of Borrowdale, Whether ye promise to bearer or order; March, march, Take-rag and Bawbee-tail, All the Scotch flimsies must over the border: Vanity you snarl anent New Act of Parliament, Bidding you vanish from dairy and “lauder” Dogs you have had your day, Down tail and slink away; You’ll pick no more bones on this side of the border. Hence to the hills where your fathers stole cattle; Hence to the glens where they skulked from the law; Hence to the moors where they vanished from battle, Crying, “De’il tak the hindmost” and “Charlie’s awa’.” * * * * * COMIC SONGS FOR YOUNG LADIES. Young gentlemen of England, That only mind your ease, Ah, little do you think how hard Young ladies try to please! Give ear unto the Milliners, And they will plainly show How the waist must be laced, By the Fashion-books to go. She who’d attract attention Must laugh at common sense, For when one goes to choose a dress, One mustn’t mind expense; Nor think how Pa will scold one, Whene’er he comes to know How he’s let into debt, By the Fashion-books to go. What terrible privations Young ladies must endure, A lovely face and form of grace From damage to secure! Their appetites they must control, Lest they too stout should grow, And in vain strive and strain By the Fashion-books to go. In days of bitter weather, Which winter doth enforce, One cannot think of such a thing As good thick boots, of course; With instep undefended, In rain, and hail, and snow, All so bold one gets cold, By the Fashion-books to go. _Punch_, December 14, 1844. ―――― YE PEASANTRY OF ENGLAND.[21] (_Dedicated to the Duke of Norfolk._) Ye Peasantry of England, Who till our fertile leas, How little do ye think a man May live on, if he please? Your weekly wages, it is plain, As far again would go, And keep you so cheap, (For Norfolk’s Duke says so) If, when hunger rages fierce and strong, To curry you would go, This powder, hungry fathers, From all expense will save; For if your children eat thereof, No other food they’ll crave; And any time that wages fall, (As oft they fall, you know,) ’Twill come cheap, a pinch to steep In water――a pint or so; And when hunger rages fierce and strong, To your curry powder go.