Long time it did the chimney grace,
So awkward now and empty;
Its with a vengeance chang’d its place,
And broke in pieces twenty.
O Delia! mourn thy direful fate,
A thousand ills portending!
Black omens now thy stars await,
’Gainst which there’s no defending.
Poor Delia now, bedew’d with tears
And piti’d by acquaintance,