THE QUEEN’S DREAM.
Good people give attention, and listen for a while,
To an interesting ditty, which cannot fail to make you smile,
So all draw near, and lend an ear, while I relate a theme,
Concerning of Victoria, a strange and funny dream.
Chorus.
So these are dreams and visions
Of old England’s blooming Queen.
At the Isle of Wight, the other night, as Vic lay in her bed,
Strange visions did to her appear, and dreams came in her head;
She drew Prince Albert by the nose, and gave a dreadful scream,
Oh, dear, she said, I’m filled with dread, I’d such a dreadful dream.
Says Albert, Vic, what are you ate? you’ve made my nose quite sore,
I’m in a mind, for half a pin, to kick you on the floor,
Such dreams for me will never do, you pepper’d me with blows.
I never knew a wife to dream, and pull her husband’s nose.
O, don’t be vex’d, the Queen replied, you know I love you well,
So listen awhile dear Albert, and my dreams to you I’ll tell;
Last night, she said, I had a dream, as soon as I lay down,
I thought Napoleon had come o’er, to steal away my crown.
The vision of Napoleon appeared at my bed side,
He said that by my subjects he had been greatly belied,
But now, said he, I’ll be revenged, I’ll quickly make you rue,
And I’ll take away the laurels that were won at Waterloo.
When the vision of Napoleon, from my view did disappear,
To escape the French, I thought that we came to lodge here,
I thought that we were so held down, by cursed poverty,
That I was forc’d to labour hard in a cotton factory.
Prince Albert, he stood quite amazed, and listened to the Queen,
And said, dear Vic, I little thought that you had such a dream,
Cheer up your heart, don’t look so sad, you need not be afraid,
For I’m sure the French will ne’er attempt, Old England to invade.
The Queen to Albert then replied, I have not told you all,
For I dream’t that Lord John Russell, altho’ but very small,
Just like a Briton bold, then so nobly did advance,
And with his fist, knocked out the eye, of the Emperor of France.
I dreamed that I was weaving on a pair of patent looms,
And I thought that you were going through the streets a-selling brooms,
And I thought our blooming Prince of Wales was selling milk and cream,
But, Albert dear, when I awoke, it was nothing but a dream.
Indeed, said Albert, dream no more, you fill my heart with pain,
And I hope that you will never have such frightful dreams again,
We’ve English and Irish soldiers, we can conquer all our foes,
So, whenever you dream again Vic, pray don’t you pull my nose.
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