Lines delivered at a Firemen’s Soirée in the days of the hand engines.
Our youth and beauty here arranged,
In honor of the Fire Brigade;
And now every man is ready
To obey the bugle of Brady.
And always willing for to ralley
At the trumpet sound of Walley,
To the fire they rush at once,
Led on by gallant Captain Vance.
The firemen, now, their only strife,
It seems to be a race for life,
Which engine first shall reach the fire
And cause the wild flames to expire.