British loyalty or a squeeze for St Paul's
Or A SQUEEZE for St. Paul's.
WRITTEN BY GEORGE COLMAN, ESQ. JUN.
CAN any tell—(ſince Adam's time I mean)
How many diff'rent Squeezes there have been?
Faith no ſmall number !—nay, this very night,
Thanks to my friends, I've ſqueez'd you pretty
Above, below, in front, and round the border,
All cloſe—all quiet too—and yet no order.
Time was, our ſickly taſte too far refining,
Old Engliſh crowds and ſqueezes were declining:
" Curſe mobs! (exclaims my lord) no, prithee no,
Don't go to vulgar fights—Cries madam, go!
I would as ſoon be ſeen at Lord Mayor's ſhow."
But now thank heaven, one glorious great occaſion
One happy cauſe of loyal emulation,
Has level'd taſte, and crowded all the nation.
'Twas nature drew the ſcene, chaſte, ſtrong and
London, her Theatre, was overflowing,
The ſtreets one Pit of joyous ſhining faces,
The belle and beau took low front window places,
The fair in diſhabille, and booted Squire,
Grinn'd, as you ſee 'em now a ſtory higher ;
While the hoarſe deep-mouth'd cannon thund'-
ring loud, [crow'd,
Juſt like my honeſt friends, there ſtunn'd the
Such ſqueezing, joſtling---here ſome ſtand, ſome
All anxious for---'twas England's benefit, [fit,
O may that day on record ſtand, and age
In future times, delighted, turn the page !
The April-morn, chaſing the dreary hours
Of gloomy Winter, ſmil'd, yet ſmil'd in ſhow'rs.
Thus did the heart in ev'ry eye appear,
While rapture beam'd, Affection dropt a tear ;
Yet ſome whoſe manners no leſs love confeſs'd,
In rough unpoliſh'd tones their joys expreſs'd.
" Och blood and Oons(cries Pat) and ſcratch'd his
My heart's as light as any feather bed ; [head,
This day that rains as hard as it can pour,
Is n't an exceeding fine one to be fure---
Long life---O batheration joy---Huzza !
Don't you be after ſtopping up the way ;
I'll ſhut your day lights up if you're ſo nimble,
And then my jewel look at this, and tremble.
Good luck to him, there he goes, by my Shalvation,
I love him---mind my toes---and ſo does all our
The Iriſhman that don't---get on the bench man--
His father, fait, and mother was a Frenchman."
" Got pleſs the royal family---O ſplutter,
Hur will fee noble fights here from the gutter ;
But look you now ſuch mops and crouts as theſe
Will toaſt hur potty like a piece of ſhize,
Hur's travell'd up on purpoſe from Llantilly---
Got's ſplutter and nails your elpow's in my pelly,-
Hur's heard of Harry Monmouth, never ſince
Hur country knew ſo creat a King and Prince.
" Who iſh't has got his knockles in my throat---
Let go my collar Peopliſh ! pray take note,
I'll proſecute the villainſh 'as tore my coat :
I'm a loyal Iſraelite---to ſee
This fight I riſks my life, but not my property."
" Hoot! hoot man dinna make a din and riot,
Tack your auld cloak about ye, and ſtand quiet ;
Deel dam your louſy plaid, friend and learn frae
A Scotsman what is Ge-ne-ro-ſi-ty. [me
For ſince ſae happy tidings ha gane forth,
Gude fath thats warm'd aw boſoms thro the north.
" Warm'd you, (exclaims a ſine old ſoul) warm'd
Why it has warm'd me, friend I am ninety-two ;
Pray now make room---I'm old and weak---
Would needs crawl out to ſee my King come by,
And then---I'll totter home content, and die !"
" Cheerly, old boy cries Heart of Oak, thats right,
Keep it up merry heart!---we'll all drink, fight,
Puſh, joſtle, ſqueeze our fouls out---any thing--
In honour of our good and gracious King.
Roar away meſſmates, ſtrike up now or never,
Long live the King, may the King live for ever !"
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