Chant of the Coal Quay


Where I sublimer than the Grecian rhymer
Than Pesistratus or bold Bonaparte
Could I when lyrical, like Moore that miracle
Endue my dialect with tuneful art
I’d pen a ditty of the beauteous city
So wise and witty ’twould beget renown
And like thrush or curlew I’d extol that purlieu
The Coal Quay market in my native town

O ! that’s the dwelling where ’tis easy telling
If your sense of` smelling is not up to snuff
You’ll find perfume there from Howers that bloom there
Sure you’d want six noses to smell enough
’Tis there the sages of the learned pages
Your sight engages on each bookstand
The Rule of Foster, Great Paradise Lost, or
The Comic Songster, all second hand

In there the animals in congregation
Show great rotation, both horse and hen
With organ monkeys, dogs, ducks and donkeys
And Poor Law Guardians and Aldermen
You’ll find great pleasure in jovial measure
While ballad singers in full voice combine
With whispering lovers and cattle drovers
A reconnoiterin’ their furtive swine


Song Clip