An Ode to Toast-Master Toole.[42]
“Descend, ye Nine!”
No common theme is mine—
I sing of thee, O Toole!
Bacchus baptised thee in a font of wine,
And from the roseate pool
Thy face received the sunny tint it wears,
And thus illumed (blest face!) a thousand “chairs.”
Who, that hath heard poor Charity’s appeal