Hear! hear! Mr. A. We are amiable too,
For we follow our amiable Leader, like you;
But when forced to say, "Bless you!" we choke with our spleen,
And we add, sotto voce, "You know what I mean."
While we sit spick and span as a picture by FRITH,
And contend with our feelings, to please Mr. SMITH.
Oh, we pule and we prate, we are nerveless and weak,
And we swallow, like Pistol, the odorous leek.
We palter with truth, and we flatter our foes,
And we cringe, and we crawl, and are led by the nose.