Of eyelids kissed and all the rest,
And rosy cheeks that lie on one's breast,
(My wrongs were yelling inside of me.)
I told the worst that pen can tell,—
And Strahan and Company loved me well.
(Oh Robert-Thomas is dread to see.)
I crowed out loud in the silent night,
I made my digs so sharp and bright:
(My wrongs were gnashing inside of me.)
In our Contemptible Review