“O’er fruit and flowers alike, Tom,
      You pass with plodding feet;
    You heed not one nor t’other,
      But onwards go your beat;
    While genius stops to loiter
      With all that he may meet;

    “And ever as he wanders,
      Will have a pretext fine
    For sleeping in the morning,
      Or loitering to dine,
    Or dozing in the shade,
      Or basking in the shine.

    “Your little steady eyes, Tom,
      Though not so bright as those
    That restless round about him
      His flashing genius throws,
    Are excellently suited
      To look before your nose.

    “Thank Heaven, then, for the blinkers
      It placed before your eyes;
    The stupidest are strongest,
      The witty are not wise;
    Oh, bless your good stupidity! 
      It is your dearest prize.

    “And though my lands are wide,
      And plenty is my gold,
    Still better gifts from Nature,
      My Thomas, do you hold—­
    A brain that’s thick and heavy,
      A heart that’s dull and cold.

    “Too dull to feel depression,
      Too hard to heed distress,
    Too cold to yield to passion
      Or silly tenderness. 
    March on—­your road is open
      To wealth, Tom, and success.

    “Ned sinneth in extravagance,
      And you in greedy lust.” 
    ("I’ faith,” says Ned, “our father
      Is less polite than just.”)
    “In you, son Tom, I’ve confidence,
      But Ned I cannot trust.

    “Wherefore my lease and copyholds,
      My lands and tenements,
    My parks, my farms, and orchards,
      My houses and my rents,
    My Dutch stock and my Spanish stock,
      My five and three per cents,

    “I leave to you, my Thomas”—­
      ("What, all?” poor Edward said,
    “Well, well, I should have spent them,
      And Tom’s a prudent head “)—­
    “I leave to you, my Thomas,—­
      To you IN TRUST for Ned.”

    The wrath and consternation
      What poet e’er could trace
    That at this fatal passage
      Came o’er Prince Tom his face;
    The wonder of the company,
      And honest Ned’s amaze?

    “’Tis surely some mistake,”
      Good-naturedly cries Ned;
    The lawyer answered gravely,
      “’Tis even as I said;
    ’Twas thus his gracious Majesty
      Ordain’d on his death-bed.

    “See, here the will is witness’d
      And here’s his autograph.” 
    “In truth, our father’s writing,”
      Says Edward with a laugh;
    “But thou shalt not be a loser, Tom;
      We’ll share it half and half.”

    “Alas! my kind young gentleman,
      This sharing cannot be;
    ’Tis written in the testament
      That Brentford spoke to me,
    ’I do forbid Prince Ned to give
      Prince Tom a halfpenny.