Hilaria: The Festive Board by Charles Morris - HTML preview

Charge to the C—y.

Then practice, ye drivelling drones, as you’ve preach’d,

Pray what’s it to you—how a dancer is breech’d?

On the fate of the Pope, pause, and awfully think,

And your mitres will totter, your lawn-sleeves will shrink;

For on beauty and symmetry fancy will feast,

To vigour of body they give mental zest,

Let Parisot’s petticoats beauties disclose,

Ne’er take up such ticklish subjects as those.