ay
"Try Warren, No. 30;"
And "General Sauce" will have its puff,
And so will General Jackson--
And peasants will drink up heavy stuff,
Which they pay a heavy tax on;
And long and late, at many a fete,
Gooseberry champagne will shine--
And as old as it was in Twenty-eight,
It will be in Twenty-nine.

And the Goddess of Love will keep her smiles;
And the God of Cups his orgies;
And there'll be riots in St. Giles,
And weddings in St. George's;
And Mendicants will sup like Kings,
And Lords will swear like Lacqueys--
And black eyes oft will lead to rings,
And rings will lead to black eyes;
And pretty Kate will scold her mate.
In a dialect all divine--
Alas! they married in Twenty-eight,--
They will part in Twenty-nine!

John Thomas Mugg, on a lonely hill,
Will do a deed of mystery--
The Morning Chronicle will fill
Five columns with the history;
The Jury will be all surprise,
The Prisoner quite collected--
And Justice Park will wipe his eyes,
And be very much affected;
And folks will relate poor Corder's fate,
As they hurry home to dine,
Comparing the hangings of Twenty-eight
With the hangings of Twenty-nine.

A Curate will go from the house of prayer
To wrong his worthy neighbour,
By dint of quoting the texts of Blair,
And singing the songs of Weber;
Sir Harry will leave the Craven hounds,
To trace the guilty parties--
And ask of the Court five thousand pounds,
To prove how rack'd his heart is:
An Advocate will execrate
The spoiler of Hymen's shrine--
And the speech that did for Twenty-eight
Will do for Twenty-nine.

My Uncle will swathe his gouty limbs,
And tell of his oils and blubbers;
My Aunt, Miss Dobbs, will play longer hymns,
And rather longer rubbers;
My Cousin in Parliament will prove
How utterly ruin'd trade is--
My Brother at Eton will fall in love
With half a hundred ladies;
My Patron will sate his pride from plate.
And his thirst from Bordeaux vine--
His nose was red in Twenty-eight,--
'Twill be redder in Twenty-nine!

And oh! I shall find, how, day by day.
All thoughts and things look older--
How the laugh of Pleasure grows less gay,
And the heart of Friendship colder;
But still I shall be what I have been,
Sworn foe to Lady Reason,
And seldom troubled with the spleen,
And fond of talki