The Reformer's Garland.
Ax Excellent New Song.
Tune—'Young Lochinvar.'
T—m A—k—n mounted his berry brown steed,
Thro' all the West Country unequalled for speed;
And, save an odd threepence to pay for the toll,
He carried no weight but a placard in scroll.
So lightly and jaunty he Eastward did hie,
With the Bill in his heart, and the Mail in his eye—
He swore that, for once, he would e-clipse the Sun,[1]
And darken the shine of his neighbour, M'P—n.
Camlachie folk stared, and Tollcross stood abeigh,
So rapid he rode, and the steed was so skeigh;
But Tom did not value his horsemanlike skill,
His thoughts were 'Reform,' and 'nought but the Bill.'
Yea, even in passing the scene at Carmyle,[2]
The Whig field of honour seemed worthless the while—
For still he expected to e-clipse the Sun,
And darken the shine of his neighbour, M'P—n.
Then onward he sped, till he came to a turn
Of the road, when the Guard of the Mail cried—'Adjourn!'
And about ship went Tom, and the spur did apply,
And the Stationer, truly, for once seemed to fly.
His Tontine constituents soon did he hail,
For near eighteen minutes he distanc'd the Mail;
The 'Adjourn' was repeated, e-clipsed was the Sun,
The shine was o'erclouded of neighbour, M'P—n.
