Eliza with the Sergeant drinking beer!
“Eliza false!” the hopeless Jenkins cried,
Upturn’d his eyes, and clasp’d his hands, and sigh’d.
“Have you, then, for a Sergeant, false one, scorn’d
The ‘private’ station I so well adorn’d?
I’ll be revenged.” The false Eliza smiles,—
“There’s not an area to be seen for miles.”
Hopeless, despairing, Jenkins dropp’d one tear;
And then upsprung, and wildly call’d for beer.
* * * * *