The repartee we might have made.
One prating fool is apt to deem
No jesting pretty save his own;
Another strives, whate'er the theme,
To make all comers, passive grown,
"Perform the office of a hone"[*]
For sharpening his witty blade;—
Too late below our breath we moan
The repartee we might have made.
Of course, it now contrives to seem