“‘Look at this lean and wither’d shape,
These cheeks as white as paper—
Alas! ’twas drinking too much tape
That made my system taper.
“‘When the past follies I review,
Which hasten’d my undoing—
I often rue with visage blue,
My fondness for blue ruin.
“‘O Laureate! warning take in time.
And let a ghost exhort,