'"And, since my Mother will not stay
A week for recreation,
Our Christmas sports will have, to-day,
A sweet anticipation:
'"So, pray you, name, some lord or gent,
How we may all make merry,
How best the moments may be spent,
How we dull care may bury."
'Then quoth the Q—n, and with her snuff,
Rais'd thick terrestrial vapours—