7
Then I mount on my pad that so swift’y does carry me.
And I nod at I pass to my Lord and Sir Harry.
With my puff em, &c.
I’ put on fine clothes, and go to the ball Sir,
Then pull out my glass and squint at them all, Sir,
To be blind is the fashion, so I’ll be blind too, Sir.
And if you peep at me, why then I’ll squint at you, Sir
With my puff em, &c.
As I strut round the room, I stare in their faces,
Then pall down my ruffles all cover'd with laces;
The ladies all giggle while their hearts are a thumping,
What a sweet fellow’s that? ——oh, young Squire Lumpkin
With his puff em, &c.
I walk out of the room and sometimes I stay in it,
As us great folks can’t make up our minds in a minute;
We sit down to cards and play at bonswaber
We hand round the wine and drink haber naber,
With our puff em; &c,
We set round the wine till we’re as drunk as buffers,
Then we knock down the candle, table and snuffers;
The waiter comes in, we put him in the fire,
And then stumble home all cover’d with mire.
Hap me with thy Petticoat.
O Bell thy looks have kill'd my heart,
I pass the day in pain;
When night returns, I feel the smart,
and wish for thee in vain.
