Oh, last trousers, last of mine!
Elkan Levi, gloomy, sordid,
Old clo',--take them, they are thine!
Boots!--of all my friends the truest,
Come and prop my suffering head;
But one pint, and that of newest,[[7]]
May'st thou bring--enough is said!
Then abed, from this sad hour,
I'll not rise, though all should ring,
Till a heavy golden shower