From Bl—w—tt’s to the Church they go,
Arrang’d in many a martial row;
Each, you may naturally suppose,
Adorn’d in his best Sunday clothes.
Muslin cravats, as white as milk;
Nay even stockings made of silk;
Capes, black, brown, blue, green, red and grey,
Cut out in the most stylish way:
And “Day and Martin,”—wond’rous sight!
Sent from each foot a blaze of light!