Classic Poem

My name it is Dick, I'm no quarrelsome blade,
Yet beating and thumping about is my trade.
I pelt well the skin, and belabour the head;
Strike my friends all with love, and my foes all with dread
With row de dow, &c.

Tho' fond of my parents, I thought it a treat,
With a couple of sticks, Daddy Mammy to beat.
And yet all the time it was giving them bread;
With rolls in the morning, and rolls going to bed.
With row de dow, &c.

Tho' not very knowing, I've something to say;
I've commanded some thousands, led thousands astray.
I've caused mighty slaughter with sword and with gun—
Tho' intent upon mischief, I'm still full of fun.
With row de dow, &c.

I rattle along, sometimes here, sometimes there—
At a playhouse, a church, at a wake, or a fair;
Sometimes at a wedding, sometimes at a grave—
I'm the dread of the coward, the pride of the brave.
With row de dow, &c.

With my dashing cockade, how the whapstraws I take—
Tho' crusty I am, I can get a soft cake;
And because these young wenches may not for them sigh,
I enlist them as well with the roll of my eye.
With row de dow, &c.

Since the Army and Navy our bulwarks have been,
Here's success to them both, and long life to our Queen;
And may brave daring spirits promotion ne'er lack—
Getting stripes on their arms, 'stead of stripes on the back.
With row de dow, &c.