Refrain—If she's only a little Plebeian,
And you're a Patrician swell,"—&c.
Fifth Verse.
(The author flatters himself that, in quiet sentiment and homely pathos he has seldom done anything finer than the two succeeding stanzas.)
Next I sought my noble father in his old ancestral castle,
And at his gouty foot my love's fond offering I laid—
A simple gift of shellfish, in a neat brown-paper parcel!
"Ah, Sir!" I cried, "if you could know, you'd love my little maid!"
Refrain—True, she's only a little Plebeian, &c.
Sixth Verse.
Beneath his shaggy eyebrows soon I saw a tear-drop twinkle;
That artless present overcame his stubborn Norman pride!
And when I made him taste a whilk, and try a periwinkle,
His last objections vanished—so she's soon to be my bride!
Refrain—Ah! she's only a little Plebeian, &c.
Seventh Verse.
Now heraldry's a science that I haven't studied much in,
But I mean to ask the College—if it's not against their rules—
That three periwinkles proper may be quartered on our 'scutcheon,
With a whilk regardant, rampant, on an oyster-knife, all gules!