She was Queen, and I could not but suck—
But she died, and poor Matty's undone!
Perhaps I was void of all thought,
Perhaps it was plain to foresee,
That a Queen so complete would be sought
By a courtier more knowing than me.
But self-love each hope can inspire,
It banishes wisdom the while;
And I thought she would surely admire
My countenance, whiskers, and smile.