Coats at five-and-forty shillings! trousers ten-and-six a pair!
Summer waistcoats, three a sov'reign, light and comfortable wear!
Taglionis, black or coloured, Chesterfield and velveteen!
The old English shooting-jacket—doeskins, such as ne'er were seen!
Army cloaks and riding-habits, Alberts at a trifling cost!
Do you want an annual contract? Write to D OUDNEYS ' by the post.
D OUDNEY Brothers ! D OUDNEY Brothers ! Not the men that drive the van,
Plastered o'er with advertisements, heralding some paltry plan,
How, by base mechanic stinting, and by pinching of their backs,
Slim attorneys' clerks may manage to retrieve their Income-tax:
But the old established business—where the best of clothes are given
At the very lowest prices—Fleet Street, Number Ninety-seven.
Wouldst thou know the works of D OUDNEY ? Hie thee to the thronged Arcade,
To the Park upon a Sunday, to the terrible Parade.
There, amid the bayonets bristling, and the flashing of the steel,
When the household troops in squadrons round the bold field-marshals wheel,
Shouldst thou see an aged warrior in a plain blue morning frock,
Peering at the proud battalions o'er the margin of his stock,—
Should thy throbbing heart then tell thee, that the veteran worn and grey
Curbed the course of Bonaparte, rolled the thunders of Assaye—
Let it tell thee, stranger, likewise, that the goodly garb he wears
Started into shape and being from the D OUDNEY Brothers ' shears!
Seek thou next the rooms of Willis—mark, where D'Orsay's Count is bending,
See the trouser's undulation from his graceful hip descending;
Hath the earth another trouser so compact and love-compelling?
Thou canst find it, stranger, only, if thou seek'st the D OUDNEYS ' dwelling!
Hark, from Windsor's royal palace, what sweet voice enchants the ear?
“Goodness, what a lovely waistcoat! Oh, who made it, Albert dear?
'Tis the very prettiest pattern! You must get a dozen others!”
And the Prince, in rapture, answers—“'Tis the work of D OUDNEY Brothers !”