And then men in armour, who ride two and two;
Not such Guys as are seen on the ninth of November,
But your regular middle-age troopers, remember.
By the way, this last rhyme
Appertains to a time
Much thought of in childhood, by schoolboys called “prime,”
When young Hopeful’s small pockets
Are emptied for rockets,
And eyebrows are burnt, and arms torn out of sockets—
When you’re begged (and the tyrants take care you do not)