And it was our faults if we didn't both waltz,
My eye! with old Guy, Old Nick and the Pope.
Rigging's rife again, fun's come to life again,
Punch and his wife again, frolicksome pair,
Footing it, crikey! like Cupid and Psyche,
Summon each rum'un to Bartlemy fair.
Trumpets blowing, roundabouts going,
Toby the Theban, intelligent Pig!
His compliments sends, inviting his friends
To meet the Bonassus to-night at a jig.