A fond pair, such as poets have drawn,
So united in heart—so congenial in taste,
We were both of us partial to brawn!
A long life I looked for of bliss with my bride,
But then Death—I ne’er dreamt about that!
Oh! there’s nothing is certain in life, as I cried
When my turbot eloped with the cat!
My dearest took ill at the turn of the year,
But the cause no physician could nab;