This from my rich old Uncle Ned,
Thanking me for my annual present;
And saying he last Tuesday wed
His cook-maid, Molly—vastly pleasant!
An ill-spelt note from Tom at school,
Begging I'll let him learn the fiddle;
Another from that precious fool,
Miss Pyefinch, with a stupid riddle.
"D'ye give it up?" Indeed I do!
Confound those antiquated minxes:
I won't play "Billy Black" to a "Blue,"
Or OEdipus to such old sphinxes.
A note sent up from Kent to show me,
Left with my bailiff, Peter King;
"I'll burn them precious stacks down, blow me!
"Yours most sincerely,
"CAPTAIN SWING."
Four begging letters with petitions,
One from my sister Jane, to pray
I'll execute a few commissions
In Bond-street, "when I go that way."
"And buy at Pearsall's in the city
Twelve skeins of silk for netting purses:
Color no matter, so it's pretty;—
Two hundred pons"—two hundred curses!
From Mistress Jones: "My little Billy
Goes up his schooling to begin,
Will you just step to Piccadilly,
And meet him when the coach comes in?
"And then, perhaps, you will as well, see
The poor dear fellow safe to school
At Dr. Smith's in Little Chelsea!"
Heaven send he flog the little fool!
From Lady Snooks: "Dear Sir, you know
You promised me last week a Rebus;
A something smart and apropos,
For my new Album?"—Aid me, Phoebus!
"My first is follow'd by my second;
Yet should my first my second see,
A dire mishap it would be reckon'd,
And sadly shock'd my first would be.