Of Jehu-like driving four in hand.
Oh why! e’er in day dreams illusive exulting,
Why did I my neighbours ne’er think of consulting!
Now grief from their fiat so hostile resulting,
Compels me to issue the tokens of woe!
I’ve sported rare logic, I’ve stuck not at bouncing,
I’ve prov’d myself rich as a crœsus in brass;
I’ve amus’d the whole town with my vaunting and flouncing;
But vain are my labours, the tokens won’t pass!
Vain too is thy friendship, dear Butterfly Billy,