Seem to say. I grant it--in a different way. 'Twas not that organ half-divine, With which, Dear Friend, your spouse or mine, What time we seek our nightly pillows, Rebukes our easy
peccadilloes: 'Twas not so tuneful, so composing; 'Twas louder and less often dozing; At _Ombre_,
_Basset_, _Loo_, _Quadrille_, You heard it resonant and shrill; You heard it rising, rising yet Beyond SELINDA'S parroquet; You heard it rival and outdo The chair-men and the link-boy too; In short, wherever
lungs perform, Like MARLBOROUGH, it rode the storm. So uncontrolled it came to be, CARDENIO feared his _chere amie_ (Like ECHO by _Cephissus_ shore) Would turn to voice and nothing more. That ('tis conceded) must be cured Which can't by practice be endured. CARDENIO, though he

loved the maid, Grew daily more and more afraid; And since advice

could not prevail (Reproof but seemed
to fan the gale), A prudent
man, he cast

about To find some fi