How splendid the public had found it.
But it lay like a piece that had been call'd "Stuff,"
With a very wet blanket round it.
Stoutly and long all the audience hiss'd,
When they found neither sense nor reason;
But we steadfastly dwelt on the points we had miss'd
And we bitterly thought of next season.
We thought, when we felt it was really dead,
As we pass'd old Covent Garden,
That Opera and Ballet would take up its place,