Though the tough cough and hiccough plough me through,
O’er life’s dark lough my course I still pursue.
And in the subjoined couplets, which should be read rhymingly:
Peasant Arcadian, guiding the plough,
Loam on your garments, your aspect is rough.
Peasant imprudent, I hear you’ve a cough:
Do you feel sure you’re clad warm enough?
Home to your cottage, and bend o’er the trough,
Kneading the loaves of digestible dough.
Though the bread’s heavy, unsweetened and tough,