LXIX.

Don Juan now saw Albion's earliest beauties, Thy cliffs, _dear_ Dover! harbour, and hotel; Thy custom-house, with all its delicate duties; Thy waiters running mucks at every bell; Thy packets, all whose passengers are booties To those who upon land or water dwell; And last, not least, to strangers uninstructed, Thy long, long bills, whence nothing is deducted.