Tisdale our Monarch ventur’d to attack,
But all the shine was taken out of Jack;
And lastly Dick, urg’d on by insult’s goad,
Whack’d a coalheaver in the Surrey Road.
But his last fight is fought, and clos’d his reign,
And time is call’d to poor King Dick in vain;
For Death, that ruthless monarch, gaunt and grim, }
Hath cruelly hit out and finished him, }
Sent him to earth, and stiffened every limb. }
Flower of the Fancy, yet one more adieu!