 | Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn |  |
4.—TOM STOKES LIVED ONCE.
Tom Stokes liv'd once in a garret high
Where fogs were breathing,
And smoke was wreathing
Her curls to give the cerulean sky,
Which high up above Tom's head did lie:
His red cheeks flourish'd,
For Sam Swipes nourish'd
Their bloom full oft with Whitbread's showers.
But debts, tho' borish, must be paid,
And Bailiffs a'nt bam'd for many hours.
Where fogs were breathing,
And smoke was wreathing
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Which high up above Tom's head did lie:
His red cheeks flourish'd,
For Sam Swipes nourish'd
Their bloom full oft with Whitbread's showers.
But debts, tho' borish, must be paid,
And Bailiffs a'nt bam'd for many hours.
Ah! that the Nabman's evil eyes
Should ever come hither,
Such cheeks to wither!
The fat soon, soon, began to die,
And Tom fell sick as the blades drew nigh.
They came one morning,
Ere Stokes had warning,
And rapp'd at the door where the wild spark lay.
‘Oh, ho!’ says Tom, ‘Is it you?’ good bye.—
So he pack'd up his awls, and he trudg'd away.
Should ever come hither,
Such cheeks to wither!
The fat soon, soon, began to die,
And Tom fell sick as the blades drew nigh.
They came one morning,
Ere Stokes had warning,
And rapp'd at the door where the wild spark lay.
‘Oh, ho!’ says Tom, ‘Is it you?’ good bye.—
So he pack'd up his awls, and he trudg'd away.
| Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn | |