Apprehended and shaken-handed!
Yea, though a minute should seem a week to them,
I would utter such words as I might or could!
For winter’s coughs and cossets are over,
And all the season of sniffs and snows,
The rheums that ravish lover from lover,
The eyes that water, the nose that blows;
And time forgotten is not remembered,
And cards are wedded and cake dismembered,
And in the Abbey, closed, under cover,