THE PARTY PETER BELL.
A potterer, Sir, he was by trade,
A Party Potterer, much respected,
And every year, when Spring appeared,
The yellow blooms, to bards endeared,
In swarms by PETER were collected.
He roved among the vales and streams,
In the green wood and hollow dell,
And, upon April's nineteenth day,
Big buttonholers made display