As he'd rather ride over than open a gate.
Chorus. With my, &c.
Then there's dashing Frank Boynton, who rides thorough breds,
Their carcases nearly as small as their heads:
But he rides so d——d hard that it makes my heart ache,
For fear his long legs should be left on a stake.
Chorus. With my, &c.
Behold Harry Mellish,[222] as wild as the wind,
On Lancaster mounted, leaving numbers behind;
But lately return'd from democrat France,