THE DEVIL'S BALL;
OR,
THERE NEVER WERE SUCH TIMES!!

THE DEVIL'S BALL.

DEVIL—Recitative Accompanied,

HUZZA! There never were such times,
Not even in th' infernal climes;
Come, ye Devils, great and small,
Come along, let's have a BALL!
Come, each little nimble Imp,
And gristly Hags who slowly limp,
On your light fantastic hoofs
Frisk away! for, without proofs,
The Qu—n's condemn'd. Call ev'ry sprite
To join our band, and grin delight.

Croaking Toads, and Vipers twining,
Snakes and Adders sleek and shining,
Round our necks in ringlets curl,
And fantastic twist and twirl.
Kindred Spirits! come, and ogle us!
Come, Sir John and Lady Daughl-s;
Saintly Sid and Wilbert faze
Charm us with the Qu—n's divorce!
What's Religion ? what are Laws?
Who regards a woman's cause ?
Princes may at random strike,
Or trample on the whole alike,

Now the Secret Den are sitting.
Let's be joyful; 'tis befitting;
Hell ne'er saw so proud a day
Since the birth of Castle-fegh;
There they sit, my lovely Imps,
The Lords are longing for a glimpse,
The GREEN BAG's open'd, cramm'd with lies,
The rogues are grinning for the prize.

Demons were in former days
Constrain'd to stay at home in Hell,
But Brit—n's now become a place
Where Demons may “delight to dwell.”

Steymouth Liverpool, Eldon Londonderry

T.R. Cruikshank, jun.

1820

THE
New Version
OF THE
CRADLE HYMN,
With a HUMOUROUS ENGRAVING Representing GOODY SID Rocking the GREAT BABY!

The Devil's Ball, 1s. 6d., coloured.—The Cradle Hymn, 1s. coloured.

Published by T. DOLBY, 299, Strand, and 34, Wardour Street, Soho.

D. AT STATIONERS' HALL.]

N. B. More "GOOD THINGS" are in preparation. The next will be, "JOHN BULL and the GAMBLERS; or, the KING, the KNAVE, and the QUEEN of HEARTS," with some Humourous Poetry by the Author of the "Cradle Hymn" and the "Devil's Ball."

Hither! Great and Mighty HUM !
Join us with thy monstrous bomb !
You're the " Devil's own" we're sure ;
Who thank'd the troops that slew the poor,
Who led a wicked, useless life,
And, last of all, disown your wife ;
Your reward is doubly due,
And I have warm'd a birth for you.

From Cheshire and from Lancashire
Let us recruit our merry choir;
Come, dear friends, come forth to play,
First and foremost Parson H<sub>a</sub>-y,
T<sub>a</sub>-t<sub>a</sub>-n, Birl-<sub>a</sub>-y, Traffu-d, Fletch-<sub>r</sub>,
H<sub>e</sub>-l<sub>t</sub>-n, who deposed a—stretcher !
Marri-<sub>t</sub>, Norri-<sub>s</sub>, Cl<sub>a</sub>-yt<sub>a</sub>-n, Wrigl-<sub>ht</sub>,
Eth-<sub>Ist</sub>-n, the bawdy poet—
O! loving Friends, I'll wag my tail,
For you're all free—and HUNT's in Jail.

Ye potent, grave, and learned Judders,
'T whose commands ev'n justice budges,
Abbot, Heasyd, Bo-t and Berley,
Join our party blithe and gaily,
You have pleas'd us mighty well,
And deserve to go to Judders!
Underneath those rev'rend wigs,
There lurk some very pretty rigs ;
Tho' on the bench you meekly squat,
You know as well as I—what's what.

Here! my little Pink of Furies !
Give my card to th' Special Judders;
Let them join our festive ring,
And in their hands some verdicts bring.

Come, ye Boroughmonger crew,
Mix amongst us through and through;
Friends to all the Thieves and Sharpers,
Makers of both Rogues and Panpers;
West-end Scamps and City Jaek's,
All who fatten on the Taxes,
Bloodshed, Slavery, Debt, and Rain,
Come and join old merry Bruin.
You have fill'd the world with crimes,
Huzza! There never were such times !!!