Or where many a bonny and bouncing lass
To Nature holds up a Bohemian glass;
Where Rosa Dartle’s consummate skill
Inclines you to hiss her against your will?”
—“Not there, not there, my friend!”
“I have not seen it, my gentle bore,
For five or six years—or rather more,
Its joys are calmer by far than those
That the Ministerial Bench bestows,
For the scene of the Happy Land is laid