I wrote some lines once on a time       In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say       They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer,       I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way,       A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came;       How kind it was of him To mind a slender man like me,       He of the mighty limb! "These to the printer," I exclaimed,       And, in my humorous way, I added (as a trifling jest),       "There'll be the devil to pay." He took the paper, and I watched,       And saw him peep within; At the first line he read, his face       Was all upon the grin. He read the next; the grin grew broad,       And shot from ear to ear; He read the third; a chuckling noise       I now began to hear. The fourth; he broke into a roar;       The fifth; his waist band split; The sixth; He burst five buttons off,       And tumbled in a fit. Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye       I watched that wretched man, And since, I never dare to write       As funny as I can.