PARODY ON “MY TIME, OH YE MUSES.”

My days, oh ye lovers, were happily sped Ere you or your whimsies got into my head; I could laugh, I could sing, I could trifle and jest, And my heart play'd a regular tune in my breast. But now, lack-a-day! what a change for the worse, 'Tis as heavy as lead, yet as wild as a horse.

My fingers, ere love had tormented my mind, Could guide my pen gently to what I design'd. I could make an enigma, a rebus, or riddle, Or tell a short tale of a dog and a fiddle. But, since this vile Cupid has got in my brain, I beg of the gods to assist in my strain. And whatever my subject, the fancy still roves, And sings of hearts, raptures, flames, sorrows, and loves.