The Chosen One
A candidate came to the west country.
by Josias Homely
That land of the bold independent and free,
And he stop'd at a borough town.
He'd a twist in his nose, and a squint in each eye,
On his back stood a hump, and his neck stood awry,
And his gait was the gait of a clown.
As he pass'd through the streets with a lop and a stride
The dogs they all bark'd, and the children all cried,
And the women beginning to snivel.
Declared this queer lump was certainly sent
As a sample to earth that he might represent,
The angels and imps of the devil.
He made not a speech, but he drew out a purse,
And signed them to take it for better for worse,
The electors electrified stood,
And cried with delight, 'now tis plain he's a trump
'Whv snarl at a squint or find fault with a hump,
'When you see his intentions are good'
'Let the bells be all rung, proclamation be made,
'The drums be all beaten, the fiddles all played,'
The voters all sung in a breath.
May the pride of the earth in his beauty and might
Still continue our eyes and our ears to delight.
And we will be thankful to death.