Of years he has upon his back,
No doubt, a burthen weighty;
He says he is threescore and ten,
But others say he's eighty.'
These lines were written in the summer of 1798, and I bestowed great labour upon them.
[104] Andrew Jones was a very singular old man. See my Poem,
'I hate that Andrew Jones—he'll breed,' etc.
[105] 'Let thy wheelbarrow alone,' etc. See my Poem to a Sexton.
[106] The reference here and in a subsequent verse is to a song very popular at the time:
'All round my hat I vears a green villow,