EAR Murphy, to improve her charms,
Your servant humbly begs;
She thanks you for her leash of arms,
But wants a brace of legs.
Moreover, as you promise folks
On certain days a drizzle;
She thinks, in case she cannot rain,
She should have means to mizzle.
Some lightning too may just fall due,
When woods begin to moult;
And if she cannot “fork it out,”
She’ll wish to make a bolt!
CONVEYANCING.
H, London is the place for all
In love with loco-motion!
Still to and fro the people go
Like billows of the ocean;
Machine or man, or caravan,
Can all be had for paying,
When great estates, or heavy weights,
Or bodies want conveying.
There’s always hacks about in packs,
Wherein you may be shaken,
And Jarvis is not always drunk,
Tho’ always overtaken;
In racing tricks he’ll never mix,
His nags are in their last days,
And slow to go, altho’ they show
As if they had their fast days!
Then if you like a single horse,
This age is quite a cab-age,
A car not quite so small and light
As those of our Queen Mab age;
The horses have been broken well,
All danger is rescinded,
For some have broken both their knees,
And some are broken winded.