It now has altogether fled.
Let those who will seek Fortune’s track,
And to Ambition’s projects cling!
I only want my jew’s-harp back,
My hoop, my silkworms, and my string.
How dull to hear the voice of those
Whom rank or chance, or wealth or power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the present hour.
Give me again my faithful “chums,”