When on the sandy shore I sit, br Beside the salt sea-wave, br And fall into a weeping fit br Because I dare not shave - br A little whisper at my ear br Enquires the reason of my fear. br br I answer "If that ruffian Jones br Should recognise me here, br He'd bellow out my name in tones br Offensive to the ear: br He chaffs me so on being stout br (A thing that always puts me out)." br br Ah me! I see him on the cliff! br Farewell, farewell to hope, br If he should look this way, and if br He's got his telescope! br To whatsoever place I flee, br My odious rival follows me! br br For every night, and everywhere, br I meet him out at dinner; br And when I've found some charming fair, br And vowed to die or win her, br The wretch (he's thin and I am stout) br Is sure to come and cut me out! br br The girls (just like them!) all agree br To praise J.