*****
But thou, farewell, my Bob! whose thin wove thatch
Was stor’d with quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
That love to live within the one-curled scratch,
With fun and all the family of smiles.
*****
No more the wherry feels my stroke so true;
At skittles in a grizzle, can I play?
Woodstock, farewell! and Wallingford adieu!
Where many a scheme relieved the lingering day.