That long have enchained me and held me too fast;
I'd earnestly try to reply to my letters,
That should have been answered the week before last;
I'd get up betimes, and I ne'er would be surly,
Nor slumber till twelve like an underbred hog;
I wouldn't play pool, and I'd go to bed early—
But can't on account of the Fog!
My mind I'd improve—I would e'en give up smoking—
Grow earnest and useful in all sorts of ways—
I'd soon become staid, never laughing or joking,