I'M JUST EIGHTEEN, AND QUITE A MAN.
I
I'm just eighteen, and quite a man, I'm no Etonian now;
Don't call me boy! such liberties I never will allow,
One's own relations bore one so; when we go out to dine,
I wish my mother would not say “John, don't take too much wine.”
II
My face is smooth, but bear's grease brings mustachios and a tuft;
I know my figure's rather slight, but then my coat is stuff'd;
My legs are long, and if they are as straight as my father's staff,
In black cloth trousers what's the use of having any calf?
III
Said Lady Trippet when she asked my mother to her ball,
If your young people are at home, I beg you'll bring them all,
The odious term included me! I'll stay at home, I vow.
“Young people” means the boys and girls, I'm no young person now.
IV
My sister Kate in confidence has told me that Miss King
Has raved about me, ever since she saw me in the spring;
Poor girl! I must contrive to be less pleasant if I can,
And Kate must tell her candidly I'm not a marrying man.
