Only our scribe chose sirups, soups, and broths,
The smallest trouble being a detestable
Bore, into which not ev’n his dinner led him.
Therefore the servants always came and fed him.
Nothing at these times but his head was seen;
The coverlet came close beneath his chin;
And then, from out the bottle or tureen,
They fill’d a silver pipe, which he let in
Between his lips, all easy, smooth, and clean,
And so he filled his philosophic skin.