Ev'n Islington waters, though close to the Town,
By Fashion one Summer were brought to renown;
Where we flock'd in such numbers, that for a supply,
We almost had tippled the New-river dry.
It late was the fashion by Ward to be cur'd;
And his pill mov'd the cause on't, whate'er we endur'd;
While every eye saw on which Taylor laid hand,
And no cripple Mapp touch'd, but could instantly stand.
But since 'tis the fashion to banter their skill,
Our eyes are relaps'd, and we're worse for the pill;