The women likewise which are not precise,
But will take a Cup of the best,
Tho they drink for pleasure, they'l have their measure
Or else you shall have little rest.
There's Billings-gate Nan, all her whole gang,
Complaining for want of their due;
True Topers they are, as e're scor'd at Bar,
For they'l drink till their Noses look blew.
A Pot and a Toast will make them to boast,