But when we 've done with taxes, meet folk next
Outside the toll-booth and the rating-place,
In public—there they have us if they will,
We 're at their mercy after that, you see!
For one tax not ten devils could extort—
Over and above necessity, a grace;
This prompt disbosoming of love, to wit—
Their vine-leaf wrappage of our tribute penny,
And crowning attestation, all works well.
Yet this precisely do they thrust on us!