But yet, 'tis joyfully I scan,
And reckon rhymes and think and plan
For there's no cheaper present than
A lyric verse.
THE RHYMES OF MISTRESS DOROTHY
Roundel—
Bemauled by ev'ry hurrying churl
And deafened by the city's brawl,
A helm-less craft I helpless swirl
Adown the street.