Though our shepherd's flesh furnishes, to gourmets, galavati kebab
& His blood burnishes, for the bibulous, Burgundian sharab
Nathless, it is to traffic in, but, the mohair of His beard
That, for England's Woolsack, we, yet, are reared
Envoi-
Prince! That Berenice's votive tresses, Belinda's ravished lock
Heaven's pasture now possesses, famished thy flock!
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