A huge globe, form’d of mountains—rivers—seas—
The polish’d mind sinks from a scene so wide,
We mean from Hyde Park Corner to Cheapside——
Look thro’ the world—you’ll find my moral true
In all the varied shapes that rise to view.
But from spoilt children of six feet in height,
To the spoilt child our stage presents to-night,
Brimful of mirth he comes—Miss Tomboy’s brother,
We hope you’ll think they’re something like each other.
To plead his cause she’ll try a sister’s skill,