They shook like jellies made without a due
And proper share of common joiner’s glue.
“Ellen! I’m come—to bid you—fare—farewell!”
They thus began to fight their verbal duel;
“Since some more hap—hap—happy man must dwell—”
“Alas—Loren—Lorenzo!—cru—cru—cruel!”
For so they split their words like grits for gruel.
At last the Lover, as he long had plann’d,
Drew out that once inestimable jewel,
Her portrait, which was erst so fondly scann’d,