Street, Adelphi, London, W.C.]

True "tuneful CHARLEY is no more,"
As DIBDIN's Monument informs us;
But memory of the man who bore
That honoured name still stirs and warms us.
And here's another of his name,
Who still the British Sailor's serving;
Then who could see without sore shame
JOHN BULL from _his_ plain duty swerving?

Thirty-three Thousand to the bad,
Our Lifeboat Service, once our glory?
Nay, JOHN, that will _not_ do, my lad;
Next year must tell a different story.
Think, what would "tuneful CHARLEY" say
To such a thing? In racy lingo,
Upon our backs his lash he'd lay,
And give the slothful Britons "stingo."

Thirty-five thousand lives they've saved,
Our Life-boat rescuers, already.
The seas around our shores they've braved,
With valour prompt and patience steady.
Shall they be floored for _L.S.D._,
Because JOHN BULL his pockets buttons?
Then the old keepers of the Sea
Must be, in pluck, as dead as muttons.

True, lads, on such a text as this