But not a coach was stirring anywhere,
Unless ’twere such as brought us in our Beer.
Alass, Hide Park, these are with the sad dayes,
The Coaches all are turned to Brewers’ Drayes;
Instead of Girls with Oranges and Lemons,
The Baker’s boys, they brought in Loaves by dozens;
And by that means, they kept us pretty sober
Until the end of wet October.
They proms’d we should march, and then we leapt,
But all their promises were broke (or kept).