So let your channels flow with single tiff,
For John, I hope, is crown’d: Take off your whiff,
Ye men of rosemary[114], and drink up all,
Remembring ’tis a butlers funeral:
Had he been master of good double beer,
My life for his, John Dawson had been here.
ON
GREAT TOM OF CHRIST-CHURCH.
Be dumb, ye infant-chimes, thump not your mettle,
That ne’re out-ring a tinker and his kettle;