“This New Police has laid me flat-- Let Christian hearts condole; And in the mud they _roll_ poor _Pat_, Who once was a _Patrol_.
“Och! when I think of former years, It almost drives me crazy; Bear up, my sowl--be dry, my tears-- My throbbing heart be azy.
“Once I was young, but now I’m owld, Once full of fun and frisky-- But now I shudder with the cowld And the devil a drop of whisky!”
He spoke, and sadly gaz’d around (The last words he could utter), Then with a mournful _guttural_ sound, Roll’d headlong in the _gutter_.
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_A New Song, of Flash, Fashion, Frolic, and Fun._
Come all ye swells and sporting blades who love to see good fun, Who in the dark, to have a lark, a mile or two would run; Here’s a dish of entertainment which cannot fail to please, The rigs of Tom and Jerry, and all their jolly sprees. With their dash along, flash along, to Life and London haste away, Where sprees and rambles, larks and gambols, is the time of day.
From Hawthorn-Hall young Jerry came to see his cousin Tom, And with his friend Bob Logic acquainted soon became, Then to cut a dash, he learns the flash, to act high life and low, And up and down through all the town at night they rambling go.
In a morning at Tattersall’s you may them often see, ’Mong jockies, grooms, and chaunters, a knowing company; In the afternoon they’re lounging in Burlington Arcade, And at night they’re at the Opera, Ball, or Masquerade.
Among the milling kiddy coves young Jerry took delight, And was always first to raise a purse to have a glorious fight. A Fancy blade he then became, and his courage ran so high, That in his room, he floor’d his groom, and black’d his valet’s eye.
Then off to Leicester-fields they’d march, the Strand, or Drury-lane Among the sporting ladies to carry on the game, They’d take them to a gin-shop and treat them round so civil, Then spur them on to fight and scratch each other like the devil.
While rambling up and down one night they came to Temple-Bar, And to have a spree, they did agree, ’gainst the Charlies to make war, Then in the twinkling of an eye a watch-box was upset, The Watchy roar’d till all was blue, but out he could not get.