Run, ladies, run, 'tis now the time for capering,
Freedom's flag, at Willis's, is just unfurl'd.
As for the Spaniards, the Cortes, or King Ferdinand,
I hope, dear Ma'am, you'll not suppose I care one pin,
A motley ball at Almack's is consider'd quite "a bird in hand"
By those, who on the decent nights cannot get in!
Then come yourself, I hope you will, and bring your eldest daughter, Ma'am,
And Susan Smith, who ran away, if Mr. Smith has caught her, Ma'am;
Our husbands wish it, and they pay for every-thing to cram us with,
The principle's the same as that which took us all to Hammersmith.