George Canning

By the side of a murmuring stream an elderly gentleman sat. On the top of his head was a wig, and a-top of his wig was his hat. The wind it blew high and blew strong, as the elderly gentleman sat;

Friend of Humanity "Needy Knife-grinder! whither are you going? Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order,

I Whene'er with haggard eyes I view This dungeon that I'm rotting in,