Last Eve, no doubt, when primed with Beer and Wine,
The World at large was all your Ruby Mine;
But if you had to face the Beak to-day,
It’s odds you couldn’t pay a Dollar Fine.
Ah, then Life wore an amber-tinted Hue,
To dizzy Heights your hop-fed Fancy flew;
But now, alas! to damp a Soul of Clay
You’ll have, perforce, to try a weaker Brew.
[148]
]Search well again! Perhaps some vagrant Sprat
Lies hid within the Lining of your Hat;