Egad , as I'm a sinner,
I'll get a snack of dinner,
For Lord knows where we sup.
You! waiter! quick, be handy,
Bring a glass of cherry brandy,
To keep my spirits up.
Some gravy soup and mutton,
I'm as hungry as a glutton.
Lord! what a time you stay!
A bottle of good sherry—
I'm determin'd to be merry—
Let Momus rule the day.

“All's ready, gentlemen”—Well, then,
If that's the case,
Let go their heads and straightway
Rattle underneath the gateway,
Off we go—away! away!

Four in hand, from Piccadilly,
Off we scamper, willy nilly,
In snug Welsh wigs so neat,
Along the Strand we clatter,
All sulkiness, no chatter.
Wo ho! in Lombard Street,
There a motley pack of railers,
Jews, citizens, and sailors,
From every side approach,
All making odd grimaces,
And quarrelling for places—
“O dear! I've missed the coach!”
“All ready in the York Mail?”—“Yes.”
Tarra-ra-ra. Then
Let go their heads, and straightway
Rattle underneath the gateway,
Off we go—away! away!

What a cavalcade of coaches
From every side approaches,
Rare work for man and beast!
Awhile to bait, take shelter,
Then gallop helter-skelter,
Some west and others east.
Hold tight whene'er we stop, sir,
Or from the box you'll drop, sir,
Which you'll dislike, no doubt.
Here, Tom, let go the traces,
Then away we go in races,
Four inside and two out.
Tarra-ra-ra.—Sit fast there.—All right?—Yes. Then
Let go their heads, and straightway
Rattle underneath the gateway,
Off we go—away! away!