The Opening of the Royal Exchange. Royal Exchange
Tune.—“Great Meat Pie.”
On Monday, October twenty-eight,
The Queen, you’re all aware,
Open’d the Royal Exchange in state,
And lunch’d with the great Lord Mayor;
A holiday all London made,
At least there were many that stole one,
While half a sovereign was gladly paid,
To get a sight of a whole one!
Ri fol, &c.
Shop fronts of articles were bared,
To make way for those who’d chink,
While a label over their heads declar’d
Them ‘warranted not to shrink.’
At a furrier’s shop close by, a sight
Of human mugs did grin, sirs,
With a bill above, in black and white,
“A stock of muffs within, sirs!”
Ri fol, &c.
The state procession pass’d by quick,
A very spicy state in,
There were Lords of the Gold and Silver Stick,
And other sticks in waiting.
The Master of the Hounds, of course,
(A regular buck) was there,
And the noble Master of the Horse,
Who went to see the mayor!
Ri fol, &c.
At Temple Bar, Lord Magnus Mayor,
Perform’d King Dick that day,
And offer’d Vic. his sword so bare,
In a werry cutting way,
“Of such fine looking blades,” cries Vic.,
“In the City there but few are,
So take it back again, old flick,
I’m not so sordid (sworded) as you are.”
Ri fol, &c.
The aldermen made quite a fix,
Their nags so frisk’d and play’d did,
Ducrow could never do such tricks
On horsehack such as they did.
They reach’d the ’Change, quite pleas’d, no doubt,
When the trumpeter, clever elf!
Gave his trumpet a good blow out,
Though he didn’t get one himself.
Ri fol, &c.
The Address was read to her apace,
Though they minded all their stops,
They thank’d her for coming to open the place,
Though she shut up all their shops.
When Mr. Tite was introduc’d,
Says the Queen, with much affection,
“Well, Mr. Tite, with much delight,
I admire the fine erection.”
Ri fol, &c.
When Lambert Jones kiss’d hands, so coy,
Says Vic., but not with malice,
“I wonder, Al., if that’s the boy
That got inside my palace?”
Just then the bells began to ring,
And the band began to play,
While Magnay whistled, for he couldn’t sing,
“It is our op’ning day.”
Ri fol, &c.
To luncheon now they went full tear,
For splendour naught could beat it,
And as it was a game affair,
They were game enough to eat it.
The wine and toasts went round, so Vic.
Gave, “Here, success to trade is,”
Says Albert, “Well, I’ll be a brick,
I’ll give ‘The charming ladies.’”
Ri fol, &c.
For Alderman Gibbs no small amount
Of enquiries folks were making,
’Twas thought he had gone to his long account,
The reckoning day mistaking.
But Michael went another way
To the banquet so inducing,
For though he expected duck that day,
He didn’t want a gaosing.
Ri fol, &c.
The royal pile they now walk’d round,
When they reach’d the merchants’ space,
At the brazen trumpet’s martial sound,
Her Majesty open’d the place.
Thus clos’d the door with great eclat,
(As a few remark’d, so witty,)
“Sho help ma cot, I never shaw
Chit a sphlendid chite in the chitty.”
Ri fol, &c.
London.—Published by J. Fairburn, Commercial Place, City Road.