Where all your high pedestrian pads
That have been up and out all night,
Running their rigs among the rattlers,
At morning meet, and, honour bright,
Agreed to share the blunt and tatlers!)
Seeing as how, I say, these swells
Are soon to meet, by special summons,
To chime together, like ‘hell bells,’
And laugh at all mankind as rum ones,
I see no reason, when such things