Kind Sir, I’ve read your paper through,
And faith, to me, ’twas really new!
How guessed ye, Sir, what maistI wanted?
This mony a day I’ve grain’dand gaunted,
To kenwhat French mischief was brewin;
Or what the drumlieDutch were doin;
That vile doup-skelper, Emperor Joseph,
If Venus yet had got his nose off;
Or how the collieshangieworks
Atweenthe Russians and the Turks,
Or if the Swede, before he halt,
Would play anitherCharles the twalt;
If Denmark, any bodyspako’t;
Or Poland, whahad now the tacko’t:
How cut-throat Prussian blades were hingin;
How libbetItaly was singin;

If Spaniard, Portuguese, or Swiss,
Were sayin’ or takin’ aughtamiss;
Or how our merry lads at hame,
In Britain’s court kept up the game;
How royal George, the Lord leuko’er him!
Was managing St. Stephen’s quorum;
If sleekitChatham Will was livin,
Or glaikitCharlie got his nievein;
How daddie Burke the plea was cookin,
If Warren Hasting’s neck was yeukin;
How cesses, stents, and fees were rax’d.
Or if bare arses yet were tax’d;
The news o’princes, dukes, and earls,
Pimps, sharpers, bawds, and opera-girls;
If that daftbuckie, GeordieWales,
Was threshing still at hizzies’ tails;
Orif he was grown oughtlinsdouser,
And noa perfect kintracooser:
A’ this and mairI never heard of;
And, butfor you, I might despair’d of.
So, gratefu’, back your news I send you,
And pray a’gudethings may attend you.

Ellisland, Monday Morning, 1790.