A pint of double X his grief beguiled;
And inly pondering o’er his fate,
He bade th’ attendant pot-boy “draw it mild.”
But thou, Sir Jamie Graham—prig;
What was thy delighted musing?
Now accepting, now refusing,
Till on the Admiralty pitch’d,
Still would that thought his speech prolong;
To gain the place for which he long had itch’d,
He call’d on Bobby still through all the song;