Or else they’re fitting us for endless freedom.)
They say it’s to prevent my being hit.
(It’s very good of them to mention it.)
They tell me I’m a clipper! and shall wobble,
“And yet I am not happy” for their trouble;
And if they want me to get safe from harms off,
Why don’t they pull the sportsman’s legs and arms off?
Fast in the middle trap. To test the cunning
Of the great guns, it’s fallen nine times running;
And now, to baffle their unerring aim,