Oft at the break of day
He’s sought your wearied way,
Oft by the glare of flambeaux glitt’ring light,
In chariot close, fresh from the haunts of folly,
With Nancy by his side, sworn foe to melancholy.
Recitative.
But hark! the door’s unbarr’d, and marching forth,
With gouty steps and slow
Gen’rals and shrives, and peers of royal birth,
And mitred bishops home to dinner go;