The Old General

The gen'ral! one of those brave old commanders,
Who serv'd through all the glorious wars in Flanders;
Frank and good natur'd, of an honest heart,
Loving to act the steady friendly part:
None led through youth a gayer life than he,
Chearful in converse, smart in repartee.
Sweet was his night, and joyful was his day,
He din'd with Walpole, and with Oldfield lay;
But with old age its vices came along,
And in narration he's extremely long;
Exact in circumstance, and nice in dates,
He each minute particular relates.
If you name one of Malbro's ten campaigns,
He tells you its whole history for your pains:
And Blenheim's field becomes by his reciting,
As long in telling as it was in fighting:
His old desire to please is still express'd;
His hat's well cock'd, his perriwig's well dress'd:
He rolls his stockings still, white gloves he wears,
And in the boxes with the beaux appears:
His eyes through wrinkled corners cast their rays;
Still he looks chearful, still soft things he says:
And still rememb'ring that he once was young,
He strains his crippled knees, and struts along.