When I went the pace so wildly, caring little what might come;
Coffee-milling care and sorrow with a nose-adapted thumb;
Felt the exquisite enjoyment, tossing nightly off, oh, heavens!
Brandies at the Cider Cellars, kidneys smoking hot at Evans'!
Or in the Adelphi sitting, half in rapture, half in tears,
Saw the glorious melodrama conjure up the shades of years!
Saw Jack Sheppard, noble stripling, act his wondrous feats again,
Snapping Newgate's bars of iron, like an infant's daisy chain.
Might was right, and all the terrors, which had held the world in awe,
Were despised, and priggings prospered, spite of Laurie, spite of law.