'S Who delight in the dance Of a Darling Bacchante. | |
He's invented a clever contrivance for Eve, Who complained that she never could laugh in her sleeve. | |
The feelings of Fenelon, Faber, and Fox. | |
Though Gounod and Goldsmith implore and entreat. | |
Through the bagpipes to Howells and Homer, who roll On the floor in an ecstasy past all control. | |




