LXIX.

Don Juan now saw Albion's earliest beauties,

Thy cliffs, dear Dover! harbour, and hotel;

Thy custom-house, with all its delicate duties;

Thy waiters running mucks at every bell;

Thy packets, all whose passengers are booties

To those who upon land or water dwell;

And last, not least, to strangers uninstructed,

Thy long, long bills, whence nothing is deducted.

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