Dock all the dock-yards, lower masts and sails, Search foot by foot the Infantry’s amounts, Look into all the Cavalry’s accounts, And crop their horses’ tails. Look well to Woolwich and each Money-vote, Examine all the cannons’ charges well, And those who found th’ Artillery compel To forge twelve-pounders for a five-pound note. Watch Sandhurst too, its debts and its Cadets-- Those Military pets. Take army--no, take Leggy Tailors Down to the Fleet, for no one but a nincum Out of our nation’s narrow income Would furnish such wide trousers to the Sailors. Next take, to wonder him, The Master of the Horse’s horse from under him; Retrench from those who tend on Royal ills Wherewith to gild their pills. And tell the Stag-hound’s Master he must keep The deer, &c., cheap. Close as new brooms Scrub the Bed Chamber Grooms; Abridge the Master of the Ceremonies Of his very monies; In short, at every salary have a pull, And when folks come for pay On quarter-day, Stop half and make them give receipts in full. Oh, Mr. Hume, don’t drink, Or eat, or sleep, a wink, Till you have argued over each reduction: Let it be food to you, repose and suction; Though you should make more motions by one half Than any telegraph, Item by item all these things enforce, Be on your legs till lame, and talk till hoarse; Have lozenges--mind, Dawson’s--in your pocket, And swing your arms till aching in their socket; Or if awake you cannot keep, Talk of retrenchment in your sleep; Expose each Peachum, and show up each Lockit-- Go down to the M.P.’s before you sup, And while they’re sitting blow them up, As Guy Fawkes could not do with all his nous; But now we live in different Novembers, And safely you may walk into the House, First split its ears and then divide its members! TO ADMIRAL GAMBIER, G.C.B. “Well, if you reclaim such as Hood, your Society will deserve the thanks of the country.”--_Temperance Society’s Herald_, vol. 1, No. 1, p. 8. “My father, when last I from Guinea Came home with abundance of wealth, Said, ‘Jack, never be such a ninny As to drink--’ says I, ‘Father, your health?’” _Nothing like Grog._ Oh! Admiral Gam--I dare not mention _bier_ In such a temperate ear-- Oh! Admiral Gam--an admiral of the Blue, Of course to read the Navy List aright, For strictly shunning wine of either hue, You can’t be Admiral of the Red or White:-- Oh, Admiral Gam! consider ere you call On merry Englishmen to wash their throttles With water only; and to break their bottles, To stick, for fear of trespass, on the wall Of Exeter Hall!