He'd a foot always ready to kick up a row;
And, when half-seas over, a quarrel he pick'd,
To keep up the row he had previously kick'd.
He spent all, then borrow'd at twenty per cent.
His mistress fought shy when his money was spent,
So he went for a soldier; he could not do less,
And scorn'd his fair Fanny for hugging brown Bess.
"Halt—Wheel into line!" and "Attention—Eyes right!"
Put Bacchus, and Venus, and Momus to flight
But who can depict half the sorrows he felt