Ill-Timed Levity

I scarce can speak, Bartholomew, I am so much displeased with you For all that has occur’d: Aunt Porter, who had come to stay, Has in her Chariot roll’d away Without a parting Word.

Last Night, when all were sent to Dine, You took a Fish-hook and some Twine And, leaning o’er the Stair, When honour’d Guests went by Below Let slyly down the Hook, and so Secured it in her Hair.

Alas! Aunt Porter, long denied That Crown which is a Woman’s Pride, And thinking, sure, no Ill, At Table duly took her Seat With seasoned Majesty replete And amiable Good-will.

At last she rais’d her Hand appall’d And sudden found that she was Bald, And for her Speech did strive:-- The Scene I cannot now pursue, It has been given to very Few Such Moments to survive.

Ah me! you cannot understand What Pow’r may lie in childish Hand E’en at such tender Age. Our Relative in high Disgust Will make Resentment, deep and just, Our only Heritage.