Here bulls they bait, till loudly they do roar;
Here boats do slide, where boats were wont to row,
Where ships did sail, the sailors do them tow;
And passengers in boats the river crost,
For the same price as ’twas before the frost.
There is the printing booth of wonderous fame,
Because that each man there did print his name;
And sure, in former ages, ne’re was found,
A press to print, where men so oft were drown’d.
In blanket booths, that sit at no ground rent,