For oh! the brain gets very dull and dry, Selling from morn till night for cash or credit; Or with a vacant face and vacant eye, Watching cheap prints that Knight did never edit. Till sick with toil, and lassitude extreme, We often think, when we are dull and vapoury, The bliss of Paradise was so supreme, Because that Adam did not deal in drapery. 94 THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. My pipe is lit, my grog is mix'd, And Tray is sitting on the rug. Miss Susan Bates was Mistress Mogg— What d'ye think of that, my Cat? She look'd so fair, she sang so well, The ring was placed, the deed was done! Away we went in chaise-and-four, As fast as grinning boys could flog— What d'ye think of that, my Cat? What d'ye think of that, my Dog? What loving tête-à-têtes to come! But tête-à-têtes must still defer! When Susan came to live with me, Her mother came to live with her! With sister Belle she couldn't part, But all my ties had leave to jogWhat d'ye think of that, my Cat? What d'ye think of that, my Dog? The mother brought a pretty Poll— The Monkey bit-the Parrot scream'd, No longer Deary, Duck, and Love, My clothes they were the queerest shape! Such coats and hats she never met! Poor Tomkinson was snubb'd and huff'dShe could not bear that Mister BloggWhat d'ye think of that, my Cat? What d'ye think of that, my Dog? At times we had a spar, and then The Maid declared her Master wrong- My Susan's taste was superfine, I never had a decent coat I never had a coin to spend ! She forced me to resign my Club, Lay down my pipe, retrench my grog What d'ye think of that, my Cat? What d'ye think of that, my Dog? H |