LXXIII

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LXXIII

“Five minutes before one⁠—brought down a moth

With my new double-barrel⁠—stew’d the thighs,

And made a very tolerable broth⁠—

Princess turn’d dainty, to our great surprise,

Alter’d her mind, and thought it very nice:

Seeing her pleasant, tried her with a pun,

She frown’d; a monstrous owl across us flies

About this time,⁠—a sad old figure of fun;

Bad omen⁠—this new match can’t be a happy one.