The grand and great will love, and hate,
And combat, and combine;
And much where we were in Twenty-eight,
We shall be in Twenty-nine.

O'Connell will toil to raise the Rent,
And Kenyon to sink the Nation;
And Sheil will abuse the Parliament,
And Peel the Association;
And the thought of bayonets and swords
Will make ex-Chancellors merry--
And jokes will be cut in the House of Lords,
And throats in the County Kerry;
And writers of weight will speculate
On the Cabinet's design--
And just what it did in Twenty-eight,
It will do in Twenty-nine.

Mathews will be extremely gay,
And Hook extremely dirty;
And brick and mortar still will say
"Try Warren, No. 30;"
And "General Sauce" will have its puff,
And so will General Jackson--
And peasants will drink up heavy stuff,
Which they pay a heavy tax on;
And long and late, at many a fête,
Gooseberry champagne will shine--
And as old as it was in Twenty-eight,
It will be in Twenty-nine.