New Song for Barge-day, 1835

It well may grieve one's heart full sore,
To be in such a movement--
Upon the river, as on shore,
The rage is all improvement:
Once blithe as grigs, our merriment
Is chang'd to meditation,
How we these ills may circumvent--
O what a Corporation!

The Quayside always was too big,
As scullers have attested;
Tant ships, that come with rampant rig,
Against its sides are rested.
Still to extend it in a tift,
They're making preparation,
And Sandgate-midden is to shift--
O what a Corporation!

At Tyne-main once there was a caunch,
And famous sport was found there;
So long it stood--so high and staunch--
All vessels took the ground there;
But, somehow, it has crept away,
By flood or excavation,
And time there you need not delay--
O what a Corporation!

They think to move Bill-point--a spot
So lovely and romantic--
Which has sent many ships to pot,
And set some seamen frantic;
Then many a gowk will run to see,
And stare with admiration,
From Snowdon's Hole to Wincomlee--
O what a Corporation!

How silent once was Wallsend-shore--
Its dulness was a wonder;
Now, from the staiths, full waggons pour
Their coals like distant thunder;
To have restor'd its wonted peace,
In vain our supplication,--
The trade, they say, it will increase--
O what a Corporation!

Where Tynemouth-bar, I understand,
A rock from side to side is,
How well would look a bank of sand,
Not higher than the tide is;
But this, it seems, is not to be--
In spite of my oration,
The Tyne is still to join the sea--
O what a Corporation!

O would the Tyne but cease to flow,
Or, like a small burn, bubble,
There would not be a barge-day now,
Nor we have all this trouble;
But here, alas! we sailing roam
About its conservation,
Instead of sleeping safe at home--
O what a Corporation!

The Moral.

As patriots in public cause,
We never once have swerv'd yet,
And if we have not gain'd applause,
We know we've well deserv'd it:
Who thinks we care for feasting, he
Must be a stupid noddy--
We're, like the Herbage-committee,
An ill-requited body.