 | A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes |  |
The Brewer's Coachman.
By the Same.
Honest William, an easy and good-natur'd fellow,Wou'd a little too oft get a little too mellow.
Body coachman was he to an eminent brewer—
No better e'er sat in a box, to be sure.
His coach was kept clean, and no mothers or nurses
Took that care of their babes that he took of his horses.
He had these—ay and fifty good qualities more,
But the business of tipling cou'd ne'er be got o'er:
So his master effectually mended the matter,
By hiring a man, who drank nothing but water.
Now, William, says he, you see the plain case;
Had you drunk as he does, you'd kept a good place.
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You'd never have wanted a coachman, I trow.
They're soakers, like me whom you load with reproaches,
That enable you brewers to ride in your coaches.
| A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | |