Their minds on funds and barter most intent.
Now fam’d St. James’s Street is dreary grown,
And left in melancholy desert state,
Save where some guardsman paces up and down
From Hoby’s boot shop to the Palace gate.
Save that at Fenton’s doorway there appears
Some carriage lading to go out of town
Or drayman laying in a stock of beer
To wash the fricassies and good things down.
Moving tw’rd’s Hyde Park Corner in the west,