POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1719, 23 August 1879, Page 2

POETRY.

AULD ROBBING GREY.

To be sung at to night’s Entertainment. Tune—“ Yankee Doodle.” Anld Robbing Grey, he came to town And brought his little part, sir. He stuck a feather in his hat, He called the Liberal carte, sir. Chorus of Colonists— First he offered votes to all, Then he took them back, sir, Next ho taxed the poor man’s beer. While he himself drank sack, sir. Chorus of Christchurch Electors— Then let us cheer Anld Robbing Grey Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. And trust that he’ll not win the day, Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. Anld Robbing, he came to woo The girl that he did rob, sir, Of a hundred thousand pounds or more He had in his own fob, sir. Chorus of Colonists— First he offered votes to all, Then he took them back, sir. Next he taxed the poor man’s beer. While he himself drank sack, sir. Chorus of Christchurch Electors— Then lot us cheer Anld Bobbing Grey, Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. And trust that he’ll not win the day. Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. Anld Robbing tried to wheedle her. And said what he would do, sir. When once the maid became bis wife He’d be a husband true, sir. Choms ef Colonists— First he offered votes to all, Then he took them hack, sir. Next he took the poor man's beer. While he himself drank sack, sir. Chorus of Christchurch Electors— Then let us cheer Anld Robbing Grey, Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. And trust that he’ll not win the day. Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. But Miss Christchurch she said him nay. And tossed her pretty head, sir. No thank you Bobbing Grey, said she, I’ll be no more misled, sir. Chorus of Colonists— First he offered votes to all. Then he took then back, sir. Next he taxed the poor man’s beer. While he himself drank sack, six. Chorns of Christchurch Electors— Then let ns cheer Anld Bobbing Grey, Bow wow wow, wow wow wow, And trust that he’ll not win the day i Bow wow wow, wow wow wow. GO BACK TO KAWAU. Go back to Kawau, Geordie, Your high impassioned strain And declamation wordy Fall on our ears in vain. Our confidence is shaken In your honesty of soul, Too late in life you’ve taken The Democratic role. There can be no disputing You know how to blow your trump— There’s always high-falutin When Geordie’s on the stump. But your promises are hollow, Your oratory vain, We will no longerTollow, We’ll not be gulled again. Your declamation wordy Is “ bunkum ” at the best, Then go hack to Kawau, Geordie, In meditation rest. Or allegiance disown it, And take Tawhiao’s place— A thousand times you’ve shown it, The love you bear the race. Go back to Kawau, Geordie, Your high impassioned strain. And declamation wordy Fall on our ears in vain.