To the Burden of "Rogues All."
Come hither ye gallants, come hither ye maids,
To the trim gravelled walks, to the shady arcades;
Come hither, come hither, the nightingales call;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!
Come hither, ye cits, from your Lothbury hives!
Come hither, ye husbands, and look to your wives!
For the sparks are as thick as the leaves in the Mall;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!
Here the 'prentice from Aldgate may ogle a Toast!
Here his Worship must elbow the Knight of the Post!
For the wicket is free to the great and the small;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!
Here Betty may flaunt in her mistress's sack!
Here Trip wear his master's brocade on his back!
Here a hussy may ride, and a rogue take the wall;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!
Here Beauty may grant, and here Valour may ask!
Here the plainest may pass for a Belle (in a mask)!
Here a domino covers the short and the tall;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!
'Tis a type of the world, with its drums and its din;
'Tis a type of the world, for when once you come in
You are loth to go out; like the world 'tis a ball;—
Sing Tantarara,—Vauxhall! Vauxhall!