LXVI.

A Beauty at the season's close grown hectic, A Genius who has drunk himself to death, A Rake turned methodistic, or Eclectic--[184] (For that's the name they like to pray beneath)--[cr] But most, an Alderman struck apoplectic, Are things that really take away the breath,-- And show that late hours, wine, and love are able To do not much less damage than the table.