Not in love, but in learning, their passions prevail,
And they feather the head whilst they moult at the tail.
III.
An Irish upholsterer Murphy’s the man,
Who furnished my muse with a sketch of this plan;
To guard off the wind that hard by the spot gathers,
He told me she’d paper’d her front room with feathers.
IV.
By the hair-broom of Nature this room was neglected,
Here lay dust undisturbed, and there cobweb collected;