In front of Mrs. Snelling’s sugar’d snacks,
In such a very waspish stinging state,
But now at the Old Dragon, stretch’d on racks,
Fretting, and biting down his nails to tacks;
Because that new fast four-inside—the Comet,
Instead of keeping its appointed time,
Had deviated some few minutes from it,
A thing with all astronomers a crime,
And he had studied in that lore sublime;
Nor did his heat get any less or shorter