Soonest mended least that’s said
Of your shabby victory!
Wha dare ask how I behave?
Here I’m caged up like a slave;—
Guess if I’d got loose, a shave
They’d all had to turn and flee!
What’s the good of British law?
Chitty only finds a flaw!—
Though I bang my head half raw,
Their sole game is “On wi’ me!”