While The Billy BoilsSearchPro Bono PublicoWent out the streets to scan,And marching to and froHe met a seedy man,
Who did a tale unfoldIn solemn tones and slow,And this is what he toldPro Bono Publico.
“For many years I ledThe people’s onward march;I was the ‘Fountain Head’,The ‘Democratic Arch’.
“In more than regal stateI used to sit and smile,And bridges I’d donate,And railways by the mile.
“I pawned the country offFor many million quid,And spent it like a toff—So help me, Bob, I did.
“But now those times are gone,The wind blows cold and keen;I sit and think uponThe thing that I have been.
“And if a country townIts obligation shirks,I press for money downTo pay for water works.
“A million pounds or twoWas naught at all to me—And now I have to sueFor paltry £ s d!
“Alas, that such a fateshould come to such a man,Who once was called the Great—The great O’Sullivan!”
With weary steps and slow,With tears of sympathyPro Bono PublicoWent sadly home to tea.
Remarking, as he went,With sad and mournful brow,“The cash that party spent—I wish I had it now!”