* * * * *
_On an unsuccessful Oculist, who became a Tallow Chandler._
So many of the human kind,
Under his hands became stone blind,
That for such failings to atone,
At length he let the trade alone;
And ever after in despite
Of darkness, liv'd by giving, light;
But Death who has exciseman's power
To enter houses every hour,
Thinking his light grew rather sallow,
Snuffed out his wick, and seized his tallow.