For to yourselves you have done “good by stealth,”
And even you might blush to find it fame.
You sent allotments—and ’tis very fine
That, spite of panics, you unharmed should be;
Some of your premium should have been mine;
Why should the discount all devolve on me?
A little batch of ten you did allot,
Then, like a trump, I my deposit paid;
But ah! the panic to the City got,
And not a sixpence now’s to be made!