His form grotesque departed, never more
To set the Castle parlour in a roar.
His spirit now unconscious of distress—
His active limbs all stiff and motionless—
Proof against pain, or poverty’s attack.
Here lies a Nonpareil—alas, poor Jack!
’Twas in the proud and palmy days of fight,
That first his wond’rous prowess came to light;
And long the annals of the ring shall tell,
Floor’d by his fives, how many a prime one fell;