I’ve neither chick nor child; as I have nothing,
Why, ’tis lucky rather;
Yet who that hears a squalling baby wishes
Not to be FATHER?
Some few years back my spirits and my youth
Were quite amazin’;
Brisk as a pony, or a lawyer’s clerk,
Just fresh from Gray’s Inn!
What am I now? weak, old, and poor, and by
The parish found;