In respect for the love and affection he showed her,
She reduced him to dust, and she drank off the powder.
But Queen Netherplace, of a different complexion,
When called on to order the funeral direction,
Would have ate her dead lord, on a slender pretence,
Not to show her respect, but—to save the expense!—Burns.
ON COMMISSARY GOLDIE’S BRAINS.
Lord, to account who dares thee call,
Or e’er dispute thy pleasure?
Else why within so thick a wall