Quarts were pints where’er he stayed,—
Pints were to quarterns nearer;
Whiff ne’er warmed a jollier blade,
Nor drinking killed a dearer.
Anonymous.
J. Bruton wrote a similar parody, commencing—
Here’s the bottle she loved so much,
And here’s the glass she drank from,
Here’s the max her lips oft touched,
The stuff they never shrank from.