(For he’d a way that many judged polite,
A cunning dog - he’d fawn before he’d bite) -
“Observe, my friends, the frailty of our race
When age unmans us - let me state a case:
There’s our friend Rupert - we shall soon redress
His present evil - drink to our success -
I flatter not; but did you ever see
Limbs better turn’d? a prettier boy than he?
His senses all acute, his passions such
As Nature gave - she never does too much;