And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die
And did the sad hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry
No; such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots;
Though sad hearts round him thickened, 'Twas not from sickness...
The Thresher Duck, could o'er the Q {-}{-}{-}{-}{-}{-} prevail, The Proverb says;
No Fence against a Flayl
From threshing Corn, he turns to thresh his Brains; For which Her M{-}{-}{-}{-}{-}{-}y allows him Grains
Though 'tis confess'...
The
Long hast thou borne the burden of the day,
Thy task is ended, venerable Grey
No more shall art thy dexterous hand require,