She hoppeth, as a genteel wren or raven,
Upon the neighbouring heath. I’m thrice caress’d;
Caress’d by her who used to bring me cakes!
She’s tidiest of the tidiest; and becomes
In face more youthful through revolving time.
Oft has she, in bygone temperate hour,
Dulled my young ears with jaw and minstrelsy,
And there she’d sit, and tell me queer odd things;
For Nursey used to love the spectred fay,
Foibles, since foiled by Cooke and Maskelyne;