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Montgolfier's Balloon
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AIR, - Vicar and Moses
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As you ramble along,
I will sing you a song;
Make haste there is plenty of room;
To see Monsieur Goltfier,
Through the elements steer,
In a thing that is called a balloon.

Chorus.
Mons. Goltfier's great Aerial Balloon.

Nine old women good lawk,
Altogether did talk,
When like thunder some voices loud bawls
Oh! get off my toes,
And see yonder she goes,
About ten times as big as St. Pauls.

As they rambled away,
I just heard them to say,
My eyes what a terrible group;
And she is not fill'd alas,
With oil, spirits, or gass,
But with steam from a pot of pea soup.

A great fire inside
They can cook as they ride,
And aloft they will play funny capers;
Roast a bullock it seems,
Boil a cart load of green,
And steam 7 ton of potatoes.

She is as high as St. Paul's,
Out an old lady bawls,
And ten times as big some one told her,
And when she left the ground,
She would take up a town,
And eleventeen million of soldiers.

Some declar'd o'er the sea,
She was going to flee,
Our grand coronation to smile on,
And fetched horse clothes and rugs,
And nine thousand big bugs,
And the King of the Tongaroo Islands.
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Its like a house I declare,
There is up and downstairs,
A garden and pond too for fishing,
A great coach house good lord,
A pump, stables, and yard,
And a parlour, a washhouse, & kitchen.

An old tailor declar'd,
He for certainty heard,
He'd bet three pence half-penny farthing
There was plowing & sowing,
And reaping and mowing
And thirty-three acres of garden.

To out do Mr Green,
With their air, wind, and steam,
I doubt if ever they'll be able;
If their soup pot should burst,
Won't they make a great fuss
And nimbly jump under the table.

So I now must presume,
This great giant Balloon,
Is fill'd with hot air from the fountain!
One old lady did say,
'Twas a great stack of hay,
And another bawl'd out, its a mountain.

The old and the gay,
They all toddled away,
The tinker, the barber, and baker;
When they put on the steam,
They shout God Save the Queen,
May she have a good blow out of tatoes.

She's exactly nineteen,
Is our blooming young Queen,
And she thinks she has long enough tarried
Mons. Goltfier she has sent,
Up aloft with intent,
To find a husband that she may get married.

JOHN MORGAN

WESTMINSTER:- Printed for the Vendors,

^[[June 1838 - handwritten in ink]]
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THE QUEEN'S ASCENSION DAY,
OR THE STATE MONTGOLFIER.

[[Black and white illustration of a balloon basket under a balloon in flight, with a lady and three men as passengers - two of these men are throwing John Bull out of the basket.]]

JOHN BULL. - Hollo! what the deuce are you at - going to throw me over, after I have done my best to raise ye all in the clouds?
WHIGS. - Exactly so, John - we have too much ballast, and of course you being the most insignificant here, you had better make a descent as speedily as possible, for the benefit of our experiment:- hope you may come on your feet, as usual, like a cat, unhurt - good bye, Friend John.
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^[[June 2. 1838 - handwritten in ink]]