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. Some change, of course, should be in force, But, surely, not so much-- There may be hands I may not squeeze, But must I never touch?-- Must I forbear to hand a chair And not pick up a fan? But I have been myself picked up-- I’m not a single man! XIII. Others may hint a lady’s tint Is purest red and white-- May say her eyes are like the skies, So very blue and bright,-- _I_ must not say that she _has eyes_; Or, if I so began, I have my fears about my ears,-- I’m not a single man! XIV. I must confess I did not guess A simple marriage vow, Would make me find all womenkind Such unkind women now;-- I might be hashed to death, or smashed By Mr. Pickford’s van, Without, I fear, a single tear. I’m not a single man! [Illustration: A BACHELOR OF HEARTS.] A GREENWICH PENSIONER Is a sort of stranded marine animal, that the receding tide of life has left high and dry on the shore. He pines for his element like a Sea Bear, and misses his briny washings and wettings. What the ocean could not do, the land does, for it makes him sick: he cannot digest properly unless his body is rolled and tumbled about like a barrel-churn. Terra firma is good enough he thinks to touch at for wood and water, but nothing more. There is no wind, he swears, ashore--every day of his life is a dead calm,--a thing above all others he detests--he would like it better for an occasional earthquake. Walk he cannot, the ground being so still and steady that he is puzzled to keep his legs; and ride he will not, for he disdains a craft whose rudder is forward and not astern.