WALTER SCOTT! WALTER SCOTT! How hard is his Lot Who is doom'd to read over thy rhymes? Such goblins! — such frights! Such sieges! — such fights! Such customs! — such manners! — such times!
Then comes Waterloo With a halloa bellou! Of Legions disabled and slain; But you not content With the blood they have spent, Will mangle them over again.
Ah! teaze our good folks No more with this hoax, Which JOHN BULL in a daze could not see; But now broad awake, This tax will not take, He's determin'd to live, Sir, SCOTT free.