S.W. and P.I.!

*  *  *  *  *

Knows well, no doubt the curious sage,

And poet’s mind, and head of age,

What such devices mean;

Who made this pie, of high renown,

A baker was, of Derby town,

His sire reap’d beards at Horsleydown,

An honest wight, I ween;

His sister a damsel of Etwall-ash,