Piping to-day behind these party-walls,
Three months ago and more, when Mars had thrust us
In doubt and dread alarm and cannons' mist,
I found one solace, for I mused, "Augustus
Will probably enlist.
"I know not what his dreams of glory may be,
I know not if his heart is full of grit,
But I do know that he disturbs the baby,
And, judging by his lungs, he must be fit;
His is the frame, or else I've never seen one,