The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 13
Song—The Thund'rer of Otago
Song—The Thund'rer of Otago.
The "Sun" shoots forth his morning rays
The 'Cloud' is melted by his gaze,
I'll tune my Harpstrings now to praise
The Thund'rer of Otago.
Chorus.
I am one of the rhyming throng
I'll tune my Harp both loud and long
To praise the subject of my song
The Thund'rer of Otago.
Its prototype of high renown,
The 'Thunderer' of London town,
Before its splendor must bow down—
The 'Thund'rer' of Otago.
I am one, &c.
In Science, Literature, and Art,
It takes you know a leading part;
Its Politics change with the mart,
The Thund'rer of Otago!
I am one, &c.
It's Circulation is so great,
On good authority I state—
Five hundred 'Daily' sheets relate
The doings in Otago.
I am one, &c.
Its parts component are a 'hash'
Of 'Bunkum,' 'Stuff,' and 'Balderdash,'
Well seasoned o'er with senseless trash,
The Thunderer of Otago.
I am one, &c
The Gent who sways its slashing pen,
Looks down on common-minded men,
His Cloudy Atmospheric ken
Is broader than Otago.
I am one, &c.
Great 'Words—worth' knowing, calm his soul,
He worships Bowles, when o'er his 'bowl;'
Were 'Pope' alive he'd tax his 'poll'
If he came to Otago.
I am one, &c.