[
A
thing
my
dear
Lord
,
that
I
ne'er
should
have
thought
on
]
A
thing
my
dear
Lord
,
that
I
ne'er
should
have
thought
on
Was
to
hear
at
Marseilles
that
you
was
at
Houghton
With
roast
beef
and
plumb-pudding
are
treating
the
Russ
While
the
Austrian
Ambassador
adds
to
the
fuss
,
But
your
looks
tell
them
both
you
think
of
your
Son
Whom
here
to
the
Garcons
,
I
say
is
my
own
And
his
wife
is
so
pretty
,
so
sweet
a
musician
,
that
wants
only
cramming
and
not
a
Physician
Turtle
Soup
—
Asses
Milk
—
good
porridge
all
that
And
much
more
would
I
give
her
to
make
her
quite
fat
But
—
I
wish
you
of
Blessed
years
at
least
have
a
million
,
to
enjoy
all
the
honours
of
Brighton's
Pavillion
Where
an
order
I
hear
is
created
for
Dames
of
high
Beauty
and
wit
and
Poetical
Fames
I
suppose
the
next
order
your
bosom
may
cover
Will
be
the
most
Royal
Titche
Cross
of
Hanover
mine
got
:
ser
shone
is
the
Thought
for
'tis
clear
A
Tedescan
order
must
honour
a
Peer
An
Old
Peer
of
England
by
inheritance
too
;
But
unless
he
is
fond
of
a
Bauble
that's
new
—
He'll
find
himself
one
worth
twenty
times
two
of
gravens
new
made
,
tho
like
me
,
saucy
Elf
,
you
might
claim
a
Durchlachen
from
Witikind's
self
:
but
before
to
the
land
of
Sour
Crout
you
are
Roving
to
my
own
native
shore
I
shall
be
moving
and
I
hope
I
shall
find
you
by
my
wise
injunctions
having
fill'd
up
Canals
and
all
their
vile
junctions
—
for
till
that
is
perform'd
,
as
you
know
I'm
no
frog
Live
I
cannot
where
reigns
a
perpetual
fog
,
and
my
Rose-color'd
mind
like
Flora's
true
Rose
must
droop
and
be
kill'd
where
the
sun
never
glows
;
vice-versa
,
so
here
as
it
shines
every
day
my
muse
she
will
laugh
,
dance
,
sing
or
play
And
I
thought
she
might
just
as
well
dictate
a
Letter
To
make
you
like
mamselle
L'asne
somewhat
better
than
you
did
when
I
shew'd
you
her
name
in
a
box
which
set
you
a
screaming
like
Berkeley's
game
cocks
—
and
so
furious
you
look'd
that
she
ran
away
but
now
has
most
humbly
desired
me
to
say
;
she
only
ran
away
to
come
and
fight
another
day
.
if
my
verse
is
irregular
,
you
may
thank
yourself
for
with
me
you
are
an
irregular
Elf
—
there
are
times
when
all
that
I
do
is
most
charming
;
at
others
,
the
very
best
jest
is
alarming
.
arrangez
vous
s'il
vous
plait
you
never
can
blame
the
froth
of
a
cream
when
the
fond
is
the
same
for
howe'er
I
may
trifle
with
those
I
don't
know
I
am
always
with
those
that
I
love
,
statu
quo
,
and
you
to
this
Latin
,
add
,
Probatum
est
for
my
constant
esteem
for
you
is
no
jest
,
And
tho'
you
forget
me
for
Ages
when
near
you
no
time
or
events
from
my
friendship
can
tear
you
.
Elizabeth
—
12
Jan
1815
Marseilles
.