It's amazing by sheer perseverance what men do,-- As waters wear stone by the "_Sæpe cadendo_," If they stick to Lord Somebody's motto, "_Agendo!_" Was it not Robert Bruce?--I declare I've forgot, But I think it was Robert--you'll find it in Scott-- Who, when cursing Dame Fortune, was taught by a Spider, "She's sure to come round, if you will but abide her." Then another great Rob, Called "White-headed Bob," Whom I once saw receive such a thump on the "nob" From a fist which might almost an elephant brain, That I really believed, at the first, he was slain, For he lay like a log on his back, on the plain, Till a gentleman present, accustomed to _train_, Drew out a small lancet, and open'd a vein Just below his left eye, which relieving the pain, He stood up, like a trump, with an air of disdain, While his "backer" was fain, --For he could not refrain-- (He was dress'd in pea-green, with a pin and gold chain, And I think I heard somebody call him "Squire Hayne,") To whisper _ten words_ one should always retain, --"TAKE A SUCK AT THE LEMON, AND AT HIM AGAIN!!!"-- A hint ne'er surpassed, though thus spoken at random, Since Teucer's apostrophe--_Nil desperandum!_-- --Grandville acted on it, and order'd his Tandem. He had heard St Foix say, That no very great way From Namur was a snug little town call'd Grandpré, Near which, a few miles from the banks of the Maese, Dwelt a pretty twin-sister of poor dear Therèse, Of the same age, of course, the same father, same mother, And as like to Therèse as one pea to another; She liv'd with her Mamma, Having lost her Papa, Late of contraband _schnaps_ an unlicensed distiller, And her name was Des Moulins (in English, Miss Miller).