On the Landlord to explain.
Charge ten shillings for breakfast and bed!
Dinner reckoned at eight per head!
Are things raised again, though Protection's no more?
For your bills are as of yore!
I say, 'I'm done! Tea, two for one?
Your crumpets startle my father's son!
And my senses are whirled to the winds afar,
By your wax-lights, Attendance, Et Cætera!
Mourn, ye Knaves in the Public line,