Poem by Thomas Love Peacock

* * *

Instead of sitting wrapped up in flannel
With rheumatism in every joint,
I wish I was in the English Channel,
Just going 'round the Lizard Point
All southward bound, with the seas before me,
I should not care whether smooth or rough,
For then no visitors would call to bore me,
Of whose 'good-mornings' I have had enough. 

1. Life's Uncertain Day
2. The Round Table or, King Arthur's Feast
3. Lines on the Death of Julia
4. Quintetto
5. I Dug, Beneath the Cypress Shade

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