GUY FAWKES.
I SING the doleful tragedy, Guy Fawkes, that Prince of Sinisters, Who once blew up the Parliament, The King and all his Ministers; That is, he would have, if he could, For he had all the effrontery To send each single Member back In that way to the Countery.
He sneaked into the dreary vault At the witching time o' night, Sir, Resolved to fire his devilish train Of Yankee dynamite, Sir ; That is, he would ha' used that stuff, And solely was prevented, 'Cause dynamite in James's time, You see, was not invented.
But a little bird let drop a word To James, that very sly fox; So he bade them search the aforesaid vault, And there they found poor Guy Fawkes ; A score or so of lively squibs Were peeping from his pockets, And a Catharine's wheel was round his ribs, And a brace of big sky-rockets.
But Sergeant Cox he collared him, Combustibles and all, Sir, And ran him safely into quod Right down Westminster Hall, Sir ; That is, he would ha' done that deed Of gunpowder and glory; But Cox, do you see, he didn't live Till the reign of Queen Victori'.
For trial they committed Guy, Remandin' and remandin' him For more conclusive evidence, Till there wasn't any standin"em; And they'd not ha' found the missin' link They wanted to convict him, If he hadn't coughed the time•fuze up That by swallowin' down he'd tricked 'em.
The Judge he sentenced him to death, Bat they sent him a reprieve, Sir, And in ten years' time they let Guy out On a quiet ticket-of-leave, Sir. That is, they would ha' done all that Just some odd centuries later; But, as it was, they went and took And hung him for a traitor.
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