Oh! say wilt thou smile when they mock at his name,
Thou, to boredom so sweetly resigned.
Nay, weep, and however my face may condemn
Thy tears shall efface their decree;
For though I have often been shut up by them
I have always found patience in thee.
To buttonhole thee was my constant delight,
Every cock and bull story was thine,
Each mare’s nest I found I exposed to thy sight,
To my twaddle thine ear thoud’st incline.