Room for a JUSTICE OR, The Life and Death of Justice WATERTON: Together with his Epitaph.  
Presented to the view of the Citizens of London, and the rest of the good people at Wapping, Ratcliff, and St. Katherine's.  
To the Tune of A Sunday baked-pudding.  

A Justice that never could tell how to write,  
But excellently skilled in the way of indite,  
Has now bid adieu to this blessed light.  
Never the like was seen.   

He is ferrying o'er the Stygian water,  
With public curses instead of the Psalter,  
And sung to his Grave with every man's laughter,  
Never, &c.   

He hath stole in his years many a heavy plank,  
And sold it for's Wenches that lived at Green-bank,  
But the devil at last hath paid him his thank,  
Never, &c.   

He was once a wondrous painful Calker,  
And to his death a wonderful Talker,  
I hope his Ghost will be no Walker,  
Never, etc   

By these good ways he grew to a Saint,  
And in the profession never was faint,  
Till Old Nick told him, Sir further you Mayn't,  
Never, &c.   

Has sprung a leak, and now he is sunk  
That has punished so many for being but Drunk,  
there's no cure for him now in the sovereign's pump,  
Never, &c.   

But he hath missed the Hangman (the devil choke him,  
Though without all doubt the fiend will smoke him)  
He bought all his Ropes to make him Okum,  
Never, etc:   

There never was any so well stopped a chink,  
Unless it were Col. Hewson the blink;  
Yet such an En'my to them that love Drink,  
Never, &c.   

A petulant bold pragmatic fellow,  
A Knave decked up in the fools colour yellow,  
That when he should speak did use for to bellow,  
Never, &c.   

But now he is gotten into the dark  
I marvel what he will do for his clerk,  
His ten Groats, a Noble, and sometimes a Mark,  
Never, &c.   

And now he is quietly under the Ground,  
And secured in a worse than his or Lob's Pound,  
Where shall now he go his Sunday's Round,  
Never, &c.   

That such a Heaven-driver of the State,  
And made the Offenders come up to his Rate,  
Should miss th' high way, & enter the devil's broad Gate  
Never, &c.   

What then shall we do with the round house & Cages  
What needs there the question, who is't that engages,  
The Fiend that employed him, hath paid him his Wages,  
Never, &c.   

He was one of the wise men of the East,  
His Worshipful Chops and Teeth never ceased,  
At a Jury's or the session's Feast,  
Never, &c.   

He sat very Gravely on the Bench,  
But never favoured Woman or Wench,  
'tis said they formerly gave him a wrench,  
Never, &c.   

Instead of peace he was Justice of Jarre,  
All his delight was placed in a Bare,  
As much as before 'twas in Pitch and tar,  
Never, &c.   

That trade had taught him to know a Flaw,  
With the help of his spectacles in the Law,  
But we all know who has him in his Claw,  
Never, &c.   

If he be as 'tis like such a troublesome Guest,  
Below as here, where he was never at Rest,  
He's to be foreman of the infernal Quest.  
Never the like was seen.    

An Epitaph.  

Here lies the Sway of Ratliffe highway  
That awed with his Frown, all Wapping Town,  
This reverend dust is the relics of a Justice,  
Worms come not again to trouble his Brain,  
If the Coffin be not tight, we shall ne'er be quied  
A Rascal so auker was ne'er made of a Calker,  
He was cross and Contrary, and from the Proverb did Vary,  
Lived by Water and so, yet died every man's Foe.   

Reader stay not on's Grave, but pass by the KNAVE,  
For you'll be ta'en in the Lurch, for your staying from Church.   
Never the like was seen.   

London, Printed for Charles Gustavus.