Before the onslaughts of his repartee.
His well-aimed jibes were quite as hard to dodge
As meteors agleam with persiflage.
His oily tongue worked on a swinging swivel,
For he spat out his thoughts and didn't drivel.
The Quakers, in his absence, had attacks
Of blues, because they missed his almanacs;
And Frenchmen soon began to understand
And praise his jokes (in England contraband).
He said to Louis, "Sire, the skies are down;