(_See Mirror, page 223_.)
Forgive, ye beauteous maids of Q,
The much relenting B,
Who vows he never will sting U,
While sipping of your T.
One nymph I wounded in the I,
The charming L N G,
The fates impell'd, I know not Y,
The luckless busy B.
And oh recall the sentence U
Pass'd on your humble B,
Let me remain at happy Q,
Send me not o'er the C.
And I will mourn upon A U,
The death of L N G,
And all the charming maids of Q
Will pity the poor B.
I will hum soft her L E G,
The reason some ask Y,
Because the maiden could not C,
By me she lost her I.
To soothe ye damsels I'll S A,
Far sooner would I B
Myself in funeral R A,
Than wound one fair at T.