Still for thy weakly self is spent
Thy little silly plaint.
But when thy friends are in distress,
Thou’lt laugh and chuckle ne’ertheless;
Nor with kind sympathy be smitten
Though all are sad but thee and kitten;
Yet, puny varlet that thou art,
Thou twitchest at the heart.
Thy smooth round cheek so soft and warm;
Thy pinky hand and dimpled arm;