The hand of the suitor1
Takes the girl that is fairest,2
But the voice of the tutor3
Damns sweetmeats the rarest ;4
Each gownsman will pop in5
The shop that is nearest,6
But they sent Jack a trotting,7
When ices were dearest.8
Firm foot on the causeway,9
Sage council within-door,10
Tight hand at a nosegay,*11
How dark is thy windor !12
Like Gog† from the mountain,13
Like the scraps‡ on the river,14
Like the bubble on Ned’s§ fountain,15
Thou art gone, and for ever !16