THE NAVAL REVIEW.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VI, Issue 396, 23 August 1856, Page 3

THE NAVAL REVIEW.

(From " Punch.") Of Commons and of Peers Sing the terrible break down, When on Southampton's piers Though invited by the Crown, They were left all to fume, fret, and frown ; To accommodate the baud Kota lender was atliaud, Aud the noblest of the land Were done browu ! Three miles off afloat Lay the steamers on the brine— The hour to sail for the Review The tickets said was nine. But 'twas twalve that April morn by the chime Ere they drifted on their path, „.. Dusty and tired to death, i,&nd Rrebuck in his wrath Was sublime! Even Wood himself had blushed To have looked upon the scene : In the Harlequin were crushed Bishop, and Duke, and Derm! "It's a joke," Lord Granvillc cried—when each :?un Heard afar, with " hip, hip, hips," Told the Queen had passed the ships, And Lord Campbell's'solemn lips Said " We're done !" Again,-—agnin,—again ! And the Transit's pace grew slack : She cuu't go on, 'tis plr.in, • 'Tis a doubt if she'll go back : Even Granviile's mirth is changing into glooxn. He a boat contrives to hail, Lest his-brother. Peers assail, Aud consign him to tho pale Stoker's doom ! A hail tho Transileurs The Ptiiseverance gave i " We are Commons, ye are Poors; & But all privilege) we'll waive: Wood to griuf to-morrow uight let us bring;

The thing's a sell complete, We've soon noilher Queen :ior fleet, And we've nothing fit to oat:— Not a thing !" On the Admiralty's chief WhatblesMiigs thnn arose, Round tough chickens and hard beef As Peers and Commons close! And so they cursed their fates, and made no way; While folk?;, with no invite From the GoN-ernmont, delight In the sunshine and the sight Of the day! Now the railway lot ns praise— Tell how, that night and day, The trains went wrong'all ways, And the engines stopped outright. How from Southampton's, Portsmouth's shore, Through the station gates there sweep Of nobs and snobs a heap, ' While some, more luckless, sleep Round the uoor! Brave hearts! 'Tis Britain's pride, When she bungles, to outdo All the bunglers that have tried What mismanagement can do. There's some excuse for all who misbehave : Luean, Airey,—-injured souls ! — Called unjustly o'er the coals, Each with bullied Wood condoles — Let them rave!