EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

On sturdy stout Dobbin I mounted my saddle and canter'd to town, Where they call'd me the twaddle; 'Till I found out a friend by mere dint of good luck, Who taught me the tippee, and now I'm a buck. To swallow six bottles. I now dare engage, Then to knock down those watchmen bent double with age; And if spent with fatigue to St. James's I waddle To shew the beau-monde, I'm no longer the twaddle, No longer the twaddle, No longer the twaddle; To shew the beau-monde, I'm no longer the twaddle.

Having now learnt to read, why I take in the papers, And draining a bumper to vanquish the vapours, I scan the fresh quarrels 'twixt new married spouses; To match the debates in both Parliament Houses; Where patriots and placemen keep wrangling for same, The Outs are all faultless, the Inns are to blame, Tho' the Outs are the tippee, their brains are all addle, Yet when they get in you soon find 'em the twaddle.

When Britons base foes dare presume to unite, Old Elliot's the tippee, because he dare fight; And to poets who live on the floor next the sky, Roast-beef is a tippee, they seldom come nigh— The Lawyer and Doctor, both strictly agree, That all is the twaddle, except 'tis their fee, And when you from Dover to Calais wou'd straddle, A Balloon is the tippee, the Packet's a twaddle. Dick Twisting is now quite the twaddle for tea, Tho' he once was the tippee for green and bohea; But then we'd no Tax to turn day into night; No dire Commutation to block up our light; "Least said's soonest mended," I hope I'm not wrong, If I am, pray excuse, and I'll hence hold my tongue, Perhaps you may think me a mere fiddle faddle, Yet, if not quite the tippee, don't say I'm the twaddle.