No, never since cup was filled or stirred
Were such wild and horrible anecdotes heard,
As blackened their neighbours of either gender,
Especially that, which is called the Tender,
But instead of the softness we fancy therewith,
Was hardened in vice as the vice of a smith.

Women! the wretches! had soiled and marred
Whatever to womanly nature belongs;
For the marriage tie they had no regard,
Nay, sped their mates to the sexton's yard,
(Like Madame Laffarge, who with poisonous pinches
Kept cutting off her L by inches) -
And as for drinking, they drank so hard
That they drank their flat-irons, pokers, and tongs!

The men--they fought and gambled at fairs;
And poached--and didn't respect grey hairs -
Stole linen, money, plate, poultry, and corses;
And broke in houses as well as horses;
Unfolded folds to kill their own mutton, -
And would their own mothers and wives for a button:
But not to repeat the deeds they did,
Backsliding in spite of all moral skid,
If all were true that fell from the tongue,
There was not a villager, old or young,
But deserved to be whipped, imprisoned, or hung,
Or sent on those travels which nobody hurries,
To publish at Colburn's, or Longmans', or Murray's.