Leaves the fair one no weapons to urge her complaint
But to go in hysterics, or have a good faint.
But stop, pray where am I? I've been straying again!
That I'm quite off my beat appears perfectly plain.
Like the dog I take with me when walking about,
Who will run down each turning, first in and then out.
Thus, when but three miles past 'neath these two feet of mine,
I am certain his four feet have traversed o'er nine;
So this quill of wild goose, if the straight path it went,
Might save more of your patience than thirty per cent.