This WORD is the Watchword—
     the talisman word,

     That the WATERLOO-MAN's to crush
     with his sword;

     But, if shielded by Norfolk

                  and Bedford's alliance,

     It will set both his sword,

                   and him at defiance;

     If Fitzwilliam, and Grosvenor, and
                 Albemarle aid it,

     And assist its best Champions,

                  who then dare invade it?

     'Tis the terrible WORD OF FEAR,
                night and morn,

     To the Guilty Trio,

                   all cover'd with scorn;

     First, to the Doctor,

                   of Circular fame,

     A Driv'ller, a Bigot, a Knave
     without shame:

     And next, Derry Down Triangle
                 by name,

     From the Land of Mis-rule,

                  and Half-hanging, and Flame:
     And then, to the Spouter of Froth
     by the hour,

     The worthless colleague

                   of their infamous power;

     Who dubb'd him 'the Doctor,'

                  whom now he calls 'brother',
     And to get at his Place,

                    took a shot at the other;

     Who haunts their Bad House,

                    a base living to earn,

     By playing Jack-Pudding, and Ruffian,
                  in turn;

     Who bullies for those,

                   whom he bullied before;
     Their Flash-man, their Bravo,

                    a son of a ————;

     The hate of the People,

                    all tatter'd and torn,

     Who curse the day

                  wherein they were born
     On account of Taxation

                   too great to be borne,

     And pray for relief,

                   from night to morn;

     Who, in vain, Petition

                   in every form,

     Who peaceably Meeting,

                   to ask for Reform,

     Were sabred by Yeomanry Cavalry,
                 who,

     Were thank'd by THE MAN,

                   all shaven and shorn,

     All cover'd