But, if you can contrive, get next at supper;

Or, if forestalled, get opposite and ogle:—

Oh, ye ambrosial moments! always upper

In mind, a sort of sentimental bogle,[599]Which sits for ever upon Memory's crupper,

The ghost of vanished pleasures once in vogue! Ill

Can tender souls relate the rise and fall

Of hopes and fears which shake a single ball.