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SIR MACKLIN.
83
In lavish stream his accents flow,
Tom, Bob, and Billy dare not flout him;
He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round about him.
"Ha, ha!" he said, "you loathe your ways,
You writhe at these, my words of warning,
In agony your hands you raise."
(And so they did, for they were yawning.)
To "Twenty-firstly" on they go.
The lads do not attempt to scout him;
He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round about him.
"Ho, ho!" he cries, "you bow your crests—
My eloquence has set you weeping;
In shame you bend upon your breasts!"
(And so they did, for they were sleeping.)
