So Orpheus fiddled, and so danced the brutes.
The Lover’s Legacy.
Unhappy Strephon, dead and cold,
His heart was from his bosom rent,
Embalmed, and in a box of gold,
To his beloved Kitty sent.
Some ladies might, perhaps, have fainted,
But Kitty smiled upon the bauble;
A pin-cushion, said she, I wanted,
Go put it on the dressing-table.