We'll make around, my dear, and call.
Alas! disturb not, maid and matron,
The swallow in my humble thatch—
Your son may find a better patron,
Your niece may meet a richer match—
I can't afford to give a dinner,
I never was on Almack's list—
And since I seldom rise a winner,
I never like to play at whist—
Unknown to me the stocks are falling—