The fam’d F.R.S.es, do tell us,
That to blow up the coals of creation,
The bum is a species of bellows.
But Priestley, who loves to oppose,
Doth a different system insist on,
And swears that he’s led by the nose
To pronounce it a Cask of Phlogiston.
The moment the Lady let fly,
Billington, Storacci, and Kelly,
With laughter were ready to die