On the Sickness of a Great Minister

Pluto commanded death to take away
Billy--Death made pretences to obey,
And only made pretences, for he shot
A headless dart that struck nor wounded not.
The ghaunt Economist who (tho' my grandam
Thinks otherwise) ne'er shoots his darts at random
Mutter'd, 'What? put my Billy in arrest?
Upon my life that were a pretty jest!
So flat a thing of Death shall ne'er be said or sung--
No! Ministers and Quacks, them take I not so young.'