From “The Myrtle and the Vine”
A JOLLY fat friar loved liquor good store,
  And he had drunk stoutly at supper;
He mounted his horse in the night at the door,
  And sat with his face to the crupper:
“Some rogue,” quoth the friar, “quite dead to remorse,...

  ALAS! what pity ’t is that regularity,
  Like Isaac Shove’s, is such a rarity!
But there are swilling wights in London town,
  Termed jolly dogs, choice spirits, alias swine,
Who pour, in midnight revel, bumpers down,
  Making their throats a...