I see on Clapham Commun, some times a very considerable period back when I were little,
And they Said it went with Steem,—But that was a joke!
For I never see none come of it,—that's out of it—but only sum Smoak—
And for All your Power of Horses about your Indians you never had but Two
In my time to draw you About to Fairs—and hang you, you know that's true!
And for All your fine Perspectuses,—howsomever you bewhich 'em,
Theirs as Pretty ones off Primerows Hill, as ever a one at Mitchum,
Tho' I cant sea What Prospectives and washing has with one another to Do—
It aint as if a Bird'seye Hankicher could take a Birds-high view!
But Thats your look out—I've not much to do with that—But pleas God to hold up fine,