Master Dicky, my dear,
You have nothing to fear,
Your proceedings I mean not to check, sir;
Whilst the weather benumbs,
We should pick up our crumbs,
So, I prithee, make free with a _peck_, sir.
I’m afraid it’s too plain
You’re a villain in _grain_,
But in that you resemble your neighbours,
For mankind have agreed
It is right to _suck seed_,
Then, like you, _hop the twig_ with their labours.
Besides this, master Dick,
You of trade have the trick,
In all _branches_ you traffic at will, sir;
You have no need of shops
For your samples of _hops_,
And can ev’ry day take up your _bill_, sir.
Then in foreign affairs
You may give yourself _airs_,
For I’ve heard it reported at home, sir,
That you’re on the best terms
With the _diet of Worms_,
And have often been tempted to _Rome_, sir.
Thus you feather your nest
In the way you like best,
And live high without fear of mishap, sir;
You are fond of your _grub_,
Have a taste for some _shrub_,
And for _gin_--there you understand _trap_, sir.
Tho’ the rivers won’t flow
In the frost and the snow,
And for fish other folks vainly try, sir;
Yet you’ll have a treat,
For, in cold or in heat,
You can still take a _perch_ with a _fly_, sir.
In love, too, oh Dick,
(Tho’ you oft when love-sick
On the course of good-breeding may trample;
And though often henpeck’d,
Yet) you scorn to neglect
To set all mankind an _eggsample_.
Your _opinions_, ’tis true,
Are flighty a few,
But at this I, for one, will not grumble;
So--your breakfast you’ve got,
And you’re off like a _shot_,
Dear Dicky, your humble _cum tumble_.[87]
[87] Examiner Feb. 12, 1815.
* * * * *
[Illustration: ~Hut. Alderson, Bellman of Durham.~]
And who gave thee that jolly red nose?
Brandy, cinnamon, ale, and cloves,
That gave me the jolly red nose.