Broadside entitled 'And Ilka Mearns Man and Bairn, My Parody and Song Shall Learn'

Transcription

And ilka Mearns man and bairn,
My Parody and Song shall learn.

CHRISTOPHER NORTH, the redoubtable Editor of Blackwood, the
only well-blown organ of aristocracy, has been parodyzing Lord Byron,
of radical memory, to cut a squib on a certain R. H. Baron of Exche-
quer, and the Clerk of the Pipe, (a Scotch sinecure, gifted by a benevo-
lent Tory to the man,) who has turned out the independent Member for
Leith.

MEN OF THE MEARNS ! Would not the following do for Mr THOS.
BURNETT, Reformer, heir apparent to a Baronetcy, your Candidate?

Tom Burnett came down like a wolf on the fold,
And his plaid was bedizened with Banchory gold,
And his pale senseless face was as fearless to see,
As the gullering linns of his own .native Dee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
The Whigs in the morn with their banners were seen ;
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strewn.

For the true Tory interest was strong in the blast,
While honest Tom trembled at thoughts of the past;
And the hopes of the Whiglings are gloomy and drear,
When they think of abatement in Taxes next year.

Gainst corruption in state, and division in senate,
His promise is pledged to the people at any rate ;
His pledge is but one thing (performance another),
And only will serve some black purpose to cover.

Beware then ! beware then ! Kincardine beware !
Lest a Whiggery company pick your bones bare ;
Remember, I warn you once and again,
Beware of Tom Burnett, such Whigs and such men.

James Knox he may write, and Arbuthuott address
With high flowing language, thro' the Angus-shire press,
His eloquence borrowed, his reform too new,
Remember he thinks not what he holds out to you.

He may raise up his head 'gainst our old aristocracy,
And quote Chancellor Brougham to support his democracy ;
But all will not do, for Crathes must go,
Ere Burnett his phiz in St. Stephen's can show.

Then pledge ye the wine cup to the memory of Pitt,
To rule o'er a nation none was ever more fit,
Arid drink to Arbuthnott, and wish him success,
He's a trust-worthy Hero all the world will confess.

For who, I ask, is so good a Representative,
(Tom Burnett, the fellow, is not half so sensitive ;)                                          
If you do not propose and elect him again,                                                   
You disgrace the distinction of Mearns-shire men.                                       

Then hark ye, my friends, reform is a job,                                                
Its supporters' desire is the public to rob;                                       
Then join not the Whigs?oh ! their banners desert',
And scorn them, and hate them in soul and in heart.                                       

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