Defend me from the Lundyfoot,
'Tis to my nostrils worse than soot,
And from the Irish save.
Your Prince's Mixture I despise,
It clogs the head and dims the eyes—
The nose rejects such burden;
Sure 'tis the critic's vast delight,
So dull and stupidly they write,
I call for witness ——.
Oh! where shall I for courage fly?