"To-morrow," says daddy, "you must go, my dear Billy,
To Englefield House; do not cry, you are silly."
Says the mother, all dressed in silk and in satin,
"Don't cram the poor boy with your Greek and your Latin,
I'll have him a little longer before mine own eyes,
To nurse him and feed him with tarts and mince-pies;
We'll send him to school when the weather is warmer;
Come kiss me, my pretty, my sweet little charmer!"
But now I must banish all fun and all folly,
So doleful's the news I am going to tell ye: