1. 'Twas in the year of fifty one; the tenth day of September;
The Electors came all in a band, to vote for their first member.
Two candidates were fixed upon, a little while before,
Our worthy Guardian Wilkinson, and Melbourne, Mr Moore.
Chorus
Now Portlanders a warning take, and mark what now I say.
If you should choose a Melbourne man, you'll ever rue the day.
2. An influential gentleman, and two or three of note,
Went round to several householders, to induce them all to vote.
Some said they would, but some would not, which grieved them very sore,
To think that any had the pluck , to object to Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
3. But by the fierceness of their looks, the timid folks were gally'd,
And those whose names were in their books, around their standard rallied.
So home they went, and went to bed, and soon began to snore,
Ane one cried out while fast asleep, "I'm sure of Mr Moore".
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
4. "I don't know who" he said at last, "has got my logs of cedar". ( Donahue)
This riddle will explain itself, my kind and gentle reader,
A lot of iron-bark there is within a certain store.
We'll palm it on a simpleton, he'll vote for Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
5. Then up he got at early dawn, as fast as he could hasten.
First to his Scotch apostate friend, and then unto the Parson.
"I've not a doubt, the day is ours, the people are but poor",
Me, I am sure they'll not offend. They'll vote for Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now portlanders etc.
6. I've had them all at my command, and still they own my sway,
"I've only to hold up my hand" this gent was heard to say.
"This dashing gallant gentleman, whose person I adore
He will be ours, I need not fear. I'm sure of Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
7. An influential batch of clothes was sent to get a washing.
But in the end, it proved a dose. The woman got a thrashing.
Her husband got into a scot, and black'd her eye full sore,
Because that she had bias'd him to vote for Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
8. Then to the poll both parties went, to tender in their votes.
Some clerks and gents were position'd there to take the people's notes.
The Guardian had the upper hand, and when the clock struck four,
Six votes were short, they lost the day, and lost their Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
9. The gent was in a dreadful fix, and almost tore his hair.
While the Guardian's side gave three loud cheers enough to rend the air
And on their shoulders they did mount, and aloft the palm they bore
Crying "now we've gain'd the victory, farewell to Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
10. The Gent went to the baker's shop, as sullen as a dog.
And just inside the door there stood a humble pedagogue.
The poor old man he did so bounce, some said he curs'd and swore,
Because his work had been in vain - he'd lost his Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
11. "I'll starve you all" he said at last, and stamp'd and shook his head.
"I'll stop your flour, and so cut off your whole supply of bread.
And when your children cry for bread your fate you will deplore",
Saying "O that I could vote again, I'd vote for Mr Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
12. "That independant butcher, too, who fill'd my heart with grief.
I'll stop his gallop very soon, I will not buy his beef,
I will not patronize him, now, but keep him from my door.
His jolly face I'll think upon, whene'er I think on Moore .
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
13. Now Portlanders, you're in a fix, but this think you can do.
Stick fast together hand and heart, and none can injure you.
Buy land, and raise your own supplies, and so lay up in store.
Then laugh when you think on the day you would not vote for Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
14. So now I end my simple tale concerning this election.
No thinking man to my advice will raise the least objection.
And when you reap the abundant crops you'll find it no eyesore.
And then you'll keep in mind the day you wouldn't vote for Moore.
Chorus - Now Portlanders etc.
