A BALLAD ON QUADRILLE.
437
VIII.
The king of late drew forth his sword
(Thank God 'twas not in wrath)
And made of many a 'squire and lord
An unwash'd knight of Bath:
What are their feats of arms and skill?
They're but nine parties at Quadrille, &c.
IX.
A party late at Cambray met,
Which drew all Europe's eyes;
'Twas call'd in Post Boy and Gazette
The quadruple allies:
But somebody took something ill,
So broke this party at Quadrille, &c.
X.
And now, God save this noble realm,
And God save eke Hanover;
And God save those who hold the helm,
When as the king goes over:
But let the king go where he will,
His subjects must play at Quadrille,
Quadrille, Quadrille, &c.
F F 3
MOLLY