There may you see small vessels under sail,
All’s one to them, with or against the gale,
And as they pass they little guns do fire,
Which feedeth some, and puffs them with desire
To sail therein, and when their money’s gone,
’Tis right, they cry, the Thames to come upon.
There on a sign you may most plainly see’t,
Here’s the first tavern built in Freezeland-street:
There is bull-baiting and bear-baiting too,
That no man living yet e’re found so true;