In vain you struggle to regain me,
When lost, you never can obtain me;
And yet, what’s odd, you sigh and fret,
Deplore my loss and have me yet.
And often using me quite ill,
And seeking ways your slave to kill –
Then promise that in future you
Will give to me the homage due.
Thus we go on from year to year –
My name, dear reader, let me hear.