O! who hath not heard of the sword which old Dennis
Hung over the head of a Stoic?
And how the stern sage bore that terrible menace
With a fortitude not quite heroic?
There's a Dennis the " tyrant of Cecily " hight,
(Most sincerely I pity his lady, ah!)
Now this Dennis is doomed for his sins to indite
A " Cabinet Cyclopaedia. "

He pressed me to dine, and he placed on my head
An appropriate garland of poppies:
And, lo! from the ceiling there hung by a thread
A bale of unsaleable copies.
" Puff my writings, " he cried, " or your skull shall be crushed! "
" That I cannot, " I answered, with honesty flushed.
" Be your name Dionysius or Thady, ah!
Old Dennis, my boy, though I were to enjoy
But one glass and one song, still one laugh, loud and long,
I should have at your Cyclopaedia. " .