Pray, Richard, do you think it right
To act as you did Tuesday Night
And make of Age a Mock?
The Admiral, whose Legs you tied
Whilst he was sitting by my side,
Is indisposed from Shock.
As he fell prone upon the Floor
I saw you spying through the Door
With pert and shameless Smile;
His Daughters kind, who tend his Couch,
With one accord do freely vouch
They marked your Purpose vile.
E'en barbarous Turk or Cariboo,
Or poor idolatrous Hindoo
Before such Act would pause;
What should you feel if Admiral Bligh
Were taken from us to the Sky
And you should be the Cause?
Oh! wretched Boy, Elisha's Bears
May even now be on the Stairs
Your Punishment to give:
For those the Aged who offend
Are like to come to fearful End,
Or else in Chains to live.
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