I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a Dun.

I have a liking old For thee, though manifold Stories, I know, are told *Not to thy credit!

I can not sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low; 'T is that I can't remember how They go.

O Beer! O Hodgson, Guinness, Allsop, Bass! Names that should be on every infant's tongue! Shall days and months and years and centuries pass, And still your me…