The liberties these modern changes bring,
I must confess I cannot praise;
The good old times, when we were everything,
These were the truly golden days.
Parvenu.
We, too, pushed forward with the pushing crew,
And for the need could stretch a point or two;
But now all’s changed; and with the whirling bucket,
We lose the fruit, just when our hand would pluck it.
Author.