And ’midst their Broils, shoved in a word, or two.
But in the House, when he to speak arose,
And would the labours of his mind disclose,
When all was silent, every Muzzle Mum—
He could not make a Speech—who made a Plum.
But Johnny’s turn had kindled fresh his hopes,
He’d now in Figures flourish, and in Tropes.
This secret in his heart he’d closely pent;
This it was led him wholly to consent,
When John express’d his ardent wish again