She’s as light as _The Greyhound_, as fair as _The Angel_, Her looks than _The Mitre_ more sanctified are; But she flies like _The Roebuck_, and leaves me to range ill, Still looking to her as my true polar _Star_. New _Inn_-ventions I try, with new art to adore, But my fate is, alas, to be voted a _Boar_; My _Goats_ I forsook to contemplate her charms, And must own she is fit for our noble _King’s Arms_; Now _Cross’d_, and now Jockey’d, now sad, now elate, _The Checquers_ appear but a map of my fate; I blush’d like a _Blue Cur_, to send her a _Pheasant_, But she call’d me a _Turk_, and rejected my present; So I moped to _The Barley Mow_, grieved in my mind, That _The Ark_ from the Flood ever rescued mankind! In my dreams _Lions_ roar, and _The Green Dragon_ grins, And fiends rise in shape of _The Seven Deadly Sins_, When I ogle _The Bells_, should I see her approach, I skip like a _Nag_ and jump into _The Coach_. She is crimson and white like a _Shoulder of Mutton_, Not the _red_ of _The Ox_ was so bright when first put on; Like _The Holly-bush_ prickles she scratches my liver, While I moan and die like a _Swan_ by the river.” But tame as this last performance is, it is “merry as a brass band” when compared with a ballad sung in the streets some twenty years later, entitled, “Laughable and Interesting Picture of Drunkenness.” Speaking of the publicans, who call themselves “Lords,” it says:-- “If these be the Lords, there are many kinds, For over their doors you will see many signs; There is _The King_, and likewise _The Crown_, And beggars are made in every town. There is _The Queen_, and likewise her _Head_, And many I fear to the gallows are led; There is _The Angel_, and also _The Deer_, Destroying health in every sphere. There is _The Lamb_, likewise _The Fleece_, And the fruit’s bad throughout the whole piece; There is _The White Hart_, also _The Cross Keys_, And many they’ve sent far over the seas. There is _The Bull_, and likewise his _Head_. His _Horns_ are so strong, they will gore you quite dead; There’s _The Hare and Hounds_ that never did run, And many’s been hung for the deeds they’ve done. There are _Two Fighting Cocks_ that never did crow, Where men often meet to break God’s holy vow; There is _The New Inn_, and the _Rodney_ they say, Which send men to jail their debts for to pay. _The Hope_ and _The Anchor_, _The Turk_ and his _Head_, Hundreds they’ve caused for to wander for bread; There is _The White Horse_, also _The Woolpack_, Take the shoes off your feet, and the clothes off your back. _The Axe and the Cleaver_, _The Jockey and Horse_, Some they’ve made idle, some they’ve made worse; _The George and the Dragon_, and _Nelson_ the brave, Many lives they’ve shorten’d and brought to the grave.