EN on the sandy shore I sit,
Beside the salt sea-wave,
And fall into a weeping
Because I dare not shave -A little whisper at my
Enquires the reason of my fear.
I answer "If that ruffian
Should recognise me here,
He'd bellow out my name in
Offensive to the ear:
He chaffs me so on being stout(A thing that always puts me out)." Ah me!
I see him on the cliff!
Farewell, farewell to hope,
If he should look this way, and
He's got his telescope!
To whatsoever place I flee,
My odious rival follows me!
For every night, and everywhere,
I meet him out at dinner;
And when I've found some charming fair,
And vowed to die or win her,
The wretch (he's thin and I am stout)Is sure to come and cut me out!
The girls (just like them!) all
To praise J.
Jones,
Esquire:
I ask them what on earth they
About him to admire?
They cry "He is so sleek and slim,
It's quite a treat to look at him!" They vanish in tobacco smoke,
Those visionary maids -I feel a sharp and sudden
Between the shoulder-bla des -"Why,
Brown, my boy!
Your growing stout!"(I told you he would find me out!) "My growth is not
UR business,
Sir!""No more it is, my boy!
But if it's
RS, as I infer,
Why,
Brown,
I give you joy!
A man, whose business prospers so,
Is just the sort of man to know! "It's hardly safe, though, talking here -I'd best get out of reach:
For such a weight as yours,
I fear,
Must shortly sink the beach!" -Insult me thus because I'm stout!
I vow I'll go and call him out!
