I the reins have let loose,
But my spirited muse I to back must induce.
For all I would say is, an ugly exterior
Is often the fate of a mind that's superior.
Now the Abbot was one whose mind was his forte; he
Could never remember a thing he'd done naughty.
His life would, he said, bear the strictest inspection—
It never could yield an unpleasant reflection,
Because he had brought it so near to perfection.
In languages dead he was learned and skilful;