My good Master B—ke, What ridiculous work Have you and your friends undertaken; 'Tis foolish to knock Your heads 'gainst a rock That can neither be broken or shaken.
It seems you inherit Th' Hibernian spirit, For ever in quest of adventure; Let a quarrel begin, And you're sure to be in, No matter on which side you enter.
In haste to accuse, Not a moment you lose To bestow on the subject a thought; You charge with a crime, And then ask for time To search for and fix and some fault.
