This wine, recollect, is peculiar hock:—
This is peacock—that's cygnet, yon gent before,
If you think you could manage a little more.
"Not feel quite the thing, don't your Lordship, eh?
Hallo! bring the brandy, you Sir, this way.
Now, my Lord, a small glass—just a toothful. No?
Well then, come, try the least drop of Curaçoa."
But I've other duties, which I discharge
In warily steering the Civic Barge
Through St. Stephen's storms, whirlpools, rocks, and shoals,