The Paper be my battle field—
I'm fleeced! my battle cry.
AIR.
O, 'tis a monstrous sight to see
The charge of the British Hostelry,
Its plunderings over aghast we go,
With glances adding each long, long row!
One's shocked as one glances; we shiver all,
Though we shiver quite in vain—
They have raised such a total, we, rampant, call