For though brilliant your blacking, the water of Styx
Is blacker by far, and can throw, as it suits,
A handsomer gloss o’er our shoes and our boots.”—
Answered the Warren, with choleric eye,
“Oh, king of the cock-tailed incubi!
The sneer of a fiend to your puffs you may fix,
But if, what is worse, you assert that your Styx
Surpasses my blacking, (’twas clear he was vexed),
By Jove! you will ne’er stick at any thing next.
I have dandies who laud me at Paine’s and Almack’s,