University of Virginia Library

Simplicity, I doat upon thy tongue;
And thee, O white-rob'd Truth, I've rev'renc'd long—
I'm fond too of that flashy varlet Wit,
Who skims earth, sea, heav'n, hell, existence o'er,
To put the merry table in a roar,
And shake the sides with laugh-convulsing fit.
O yes! in sweet Simplicity I glory—
To her we owe a charming little story.