Stolen from th' Indian deep,
Those locks, whose light and auburn curls
Soft on thy shoulders sleep,
Expose a woman to the sight
None but old friends can know;
Thy locks were grey, thy teeth not white,
Some twenty years ago.
Wilkes used to say, that a gentleman did not always require a footman to carry a parcel, for there were three things which he might always carry openly in his hand,—a book, a paper of snuff, and a string of fish.