You chid us sharply, well we know it,
For you'd the gift of Satire strong,
And knew just how to lay the lash on.
You smote what you thought British wrong,
Well, that won't put us in a passion.
"I ken write long-tailed if I please,"
You said. And truly, polished writer,
More like "a gentleman at ease,"
Never touched quill than this shrewd smiter.
Your "moral breath of temperament"