EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

The beacon flames, the Turks are come, The 'larum bell goes dingle; We all attend the beat of drum, Both married men and single. Our Colonel roars, They're at our doors; I give the word, So take a sword, And follow me, To victory.

You wits, you cits, wife politicians, Taylors, nailors, great physicians, Of Mahometans turn sound threshers, Philosophers and haberdashers, The city train bands. There we all met. And our valour rag'd so high, that we swore, Tol, lol, lol. Our Colonel, bold as Jacky Daw.

He rode upon his nag by; With spatterdash upon each claw, I follow'd like a magpye. The bright firelock, We prime and cock; With zounds and damn, We load and ram; Present and kneel, And fire and wheel.

Then with such slight, so tight We fight, like eagles, right And left wing, fly about. Like deer now run, like lions how try about, Ensign, adjutant, and scout. Dying now, and quick recovering, Facing, chacing, quaint manoeuvering, Ensign, halbert, pioneer, Muster, bluster, brigadier, Of city train bands. Oh! its amazing to think how eager we were to fight, —or to— Tol, lol, lol.

The Colonel's lady step'd up then, And swore upon her honour, She'd take to try those Musselmen The whole command upon her. Hence threads and silk, And Ammon milk; And solitaires, And giggish airs; Pam's and loo's, And how d'ye does.

'Pon reputation, ma'am I will—wont you, Certainly—Here dame, girl, wife, widow, maiden! Quick with flint, steel, matches laden; Billet doux—to flames devote, Coat of mail for petticoat. If Cupid comes a smiling, tripping, Give the urchin a good whipping; Give it with a rousing damme, And send him sniveling to his mammy! We're now the City Bands. Ladies fince our good men have run away, we'll see what the Turks have got to say to our Tol, lol, lol!