So well I danced, I somehow chanced To stand in every set: They now declare I cannot sing, And dance on Bruin’s plan; Me draw!--me paint!--me anything!-- I’m not a single man! III. Once I was asked advice, and task’d What works to buy or not, And “would I read that passage out I so admired in Scott?” They then could bear to hear one read; But if I now began, How they would snub “My pretty page,” I’m not a single man! IV. One used to stitch a collar then, Another hemmed a frill; I had more purses netted then Than I could hope to fill. I once could get a button on, But now I never can-- My buttons then were Bachelor’s-- I’m not a single man! V. Oh how they hated politics Thrust on me by papa: But now my chat--they all leave that To entertain mamma. Mamma, who praises her own self, Instead of Jane or Ann, And lays “her girls” upon the shelf-- I’m not a single man! VI. Ah me, how strange it is the change, In parlour and in hall! They treat me so, if I but go To make a morning call. If they had hair in papers once, Bolt up the stairs they ran; They now sit still in dishabille-- I’m not a single man! VII. Miss Mary Bond was once so fond Of Romans and of Greeks; She daily sought my cabinet, To study my antiques. Well, now she doesn’t care a dump For ancient pot or pan, Her taste at once is modernised-- I’m not a single man! VIII. My spouse is fond of homely life, And all that sort of thing; I go to balls without my wife, And never wear a ring: And yet each Miss to whom I come, As strange as Genghis Khan, Knows by some sign, I can’t divine,-- I’m not a single man! IX. Go where I will, I but intrude; I’m left in crowded rooms, Like Zimmerman on Solitude, Or Hervey at his tombs. From head to heel, they make me feel Of quite another clan; Compelled to own, though left alone, I’m not a single man! X. Miss Towne the toast, though she can boast A nose of Roman line, Will turn up even that in scorn Of compliments of mine: She should have seen that I have been Her sex’s partisan, And really married all I could-- I’m not a single man! XI. ’Tis hard to see how others fare, Whilst I rejected stand,-- Will no one take my arm because They cannot have my hand? Miss Parry, that for some would go A trip to Hindostan, With me don’t care to mount a stair-- I’m not a single man! XII.