"From morn till eve I wander forth; I roam like one distraught;
"Which ever way I turn my eyes, with ruin it is fraught.
"The good old times are quite forgot; all things do fade away;
"And when I mourn, the people laugh, and cry: ''tis Settling Day.'
"'Twas in the Court of Chancery I oft did take my nap;
"And many doubting Chancellors I've dandled in my lap;
"But now the Broom, that sweeps the room, it brushes me away;
"And says, for me, and all such crones, it is the 'Settling Day.'
"'Twas in the Commons House I sat, when Billy Pitt was young;
"I listen'd to his twelve-hour speech, and blest his fluent tongue.