Chorus. With my, &c.
Lost, spavin'd, and wind-gall'd, but showing some blood,
For from Coxcomb's poor shoulders it streams in a flood;
Behold Mr. Hodgson,[242] how he fumes and he frets,
While his black lays entangled in cursed sheep nets.
Chorus. With my, &c.
If his name I pass'd over, I fear he would cavil,
I just wish to say that I saw Mr. Saville;
And with very long coat on, (a friend to his tailor)
With some more Wakefield heroes, behold Mr. Naylor.