"All right," said Charley, like a flash,
And quickly handed o'er the cash;
But, as friend Yielding turned to go,
"Come back," said Charley, "for you owe
Just seven and sixpence for advice,
So hand it over in a trice."
While on the past I now reflect,
I well and clearly recollect
John Wilson, who kept office here,
And afterwards a Judge austere
Of the Queen's Bench or Common Pleas,
Sat with much dignity and ease.
'Tis past, I shall not here relate
Young Robert Lyon's luckless fate,
Nor shall I stir the tomb and tell
Why he an early victim fell
At folly's shrine, as he who bends
A martyr to ill-judging friends,
Will always fall; but end I here
This record of his short career.
Honor, indeed! thy shrine appears,
Surrounded by a sea of tears.
George Shouldice is a man of old,
Henry was too, who 'neath the mould
Lies slumbering in solemn rest--
He many a pompous body drest
With garments fine and quite exotic,
When fashion was not so despotic.
And Charles Friel, an early man
With Bytown's history began,