a couple of poems.
133
Those joyous beans are passed away;
Those onions blithe, O where are they!
Once loved, lost, mourned—now vexing ills
Your shades troop back in annual bills!
And so 'twill be when I'm aground—
These yearly duns will still go round,
While other bards, with frantic quills,
Shall damn and damn these annual bills!
