When nose and eyes impel to wrong,
Nor always doing just as bid,
But sterling as the minted quid.
And I have loved thee in my fashion,
Shared with thy face my frugal ration,
Squandered my balance at the bank
When thou didst chew the postman's shank,
And gone in debt replacing stocks
Of private cats and Plymouth Rocks.
And, when they claimed the annual fee