Bubbles of 1825

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Suggested Air :- [507Notation]

Run, neighbours, run! you're just in time to get a share
In all the famous projects that amuse John_Bull³;
Run, take a peep on 'Change¹, for anxious crowds beset us there,
Each trying which can make himself the greatest gull¹.
No sooner are they puff'd¹ than a universal wish there is
For shares in mines, insurances, in foreign loans and fisheries.
No matter where the project lies, so violent the mania,
In Africa, New Providence, Peru, or Pennsylvania.'

Chorus:  Run, neighbours, run! you're just in time to get a share
                  In all the famous bubbles¹ that amuse John Bull.

Few folks for news very anxious at this crisis are,
For marriages, and deaths, and births, no thirst exists;
All take the papers in, to find out what the prices are
Of shares in this or that, upon the brokers' lists.
The doctor leaves his patient, the pedagogue his Lexicon,
For mines of Real Monte, or for those of Anglo-Mexican;
Even Chili bonds don't cool the rage, nor those still more romantic sir,
For new canals to join the seas, Pacific and Atlantic, sir

At home we have projects too for draining surplus capital
And honest master Johnny of his cash to chouse
Though t'other day Judge Abbot gave rather sharpish slap at all
And Eldon launched his thunder from the Upper House
Investment banks to lend a lift to people who are undone
Proposals for Assurance - there's no end to that in London
And one amongst the number who in Parliament now press their bills
For lending cash at eight per cent. on coats and inexpressibles.

No more with her bright pals the milkman's rosy daughter works,
A company must serve you now with milk and cream ;
Perhaps they've some connection with the advertizing Water Works,
That promise to supply you from the limpid stream.
Another body corporate would fain some pence and shillings get,
By selling fish at Hungerford, and knocking up old Billingsgate;
Another takes your linen, when it's dirty, to the suds, sir,
And brings it home in carriages with four nice bits of blood, sir.

When Greenwich coaches go by steam on roads of iron railing, sir,
How pleasant it will be to see a dozen in a line;
And ships of heavy burden over hills and valleys sailing, sir,
Shall cross from Bristol Channel to the Tweed or Tyne.
And Dame Speculation, if she ever fully bath her ends,
Will give us docks at Bermondsey, St Saviour's, and St Catherine's;
While sidelong bridges over mud shall fill the folks with wonder, sir,
And lamp-light tunnels all day long convey the Cockneys under, sir

A tunnel underneath the sea from Calais straight to Dover, sir,
The qualmish folks may cross by land from shore to shore,
With sluices to drown the French, if e'er they would come o'er, sir,
Has long been talk'd of, till at length 'tis thought a monstrous bore.
Amongst the many scheming folks, I take it he's no ninny, sir,
Who bargains with the Ashantees to fish the coast of Guinea, sir,
For secretly, 'tis known, that another brilliant view he has,
Of lighting up the famous town of Timbuctoo with oil gas.

Then a company is formed, though not yet advertizing,
To build, upon a splendid scale, a large balloon,
And send up tools and broken stones for fresh Mac-Adamizing¹
The new discover'd turnpike¹ roads which cross the moon.
But the most inviting scheme of all, is one proposed for carrying
Large furnaces to melt the ice which hems poor Captain Parry in;
They'll then have steamboats twice a-week to all the newly-seen land,
And call for passengers at Labrador and Greenland.

 

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