In Holywell Street, St Pancras, he was bred
(At number twenty-seven, it is said),
Pacing the pump, and near the Granby’s Head.
He would have bound him to some shop in town,
But with a premium he could not come down.
Pat was the urchin’s name—a red-haired youth,
Fonder of purl and skittle-grounds than truth.
In regard to the parody of Sir Walter Scott in Rejected Addresses, the poet himself said: ‘I must have done it myself, though I forget on what occasion.’ Here are a few lines descriptive of the Drury Lane Theatre on fire:
At length the mist awhile was cleared,
When lo! amid the wreck upreared,