Oh, what could William hope for then?
How could a wobbly-braided swain
Vie with the actual Royal Navy,
Whose stripes were half as broad again
And straight, not wavy?
Then William swore (ah, Envy, ah!)
"Belinda shall be mine, she SHALL!"
And wrote a note to his papa,
Who'd just been made an Admiral:—
"Father, now that you'll fly at sea