Oh sir, it seems to me unkind
To turn on me your wicked mind
T'upbraid me for my case misstating
Which you did cause, by simply waiting
And fault my simple, earnest rhyme
For breaking not the Law of Time.
In fact the flaw, sir, I would guess,
Was born of your untimelieness!
I prithee, sir, you let me be,
And go amuse the G.O. P.


A