Let courtiers hug them in their bosom,
As if they were afraid to lose 'em:
While I, with humble Job, had rather
Say to corruption — "Thou'rt my father."
For he that has so little wit
To nourish vermin, may be bit.
THE YAHOO'S OVERTHROW;
OR
THE KEVAN BAYL'S NEW BALLAD,
UPON SERGEANT KITE'S INSULTING THE DEAN.
To the Tune of, Derry down.
JOLLY boys of St. Kevan's, St. Patrick's, Donore,
And Smithfield, I'll tell you, if not told before,
How Bettesworth, that booby, and scoundrel in grain,
Has insulted us all by insulting the dean.
Knock him down, down, down, knock him down.
The dean and his merits we every one know,
But this skip of a lawyer, where the De'el did he grow?
How greater his merit at Four Courts or House,
Than the barking of Towzer, or leap of a louse?
Knock him down, &c.
That he came from the Temple, his morals do show;
But where his deep law is, few mortals yet know:
