How many the troubles that wait br On mortals!—especially those br Who endeavour in eloquent prose br To expound their views, and orate. br br Did you ever attempt to speak br When you hadn't a word to say? br Did you find that it wouldn't pay, br And subside, feeling dreadfully weak? br br Did you ever, when going ahead br In a fervid defence of the Stage, br Get checked in your noble rage br By somehow losing your thread? br br Did you ever rise to reply br To a toast (say 'The Volunteers'), br And evoke loud laughter and cheers, br When you didn't exactly know why? br br Did you ever wax witty, and when br You had smashed an opponent quite small, br Did he seem not to mind it at all, br But get up and smash you again? br br If any or all of these things br Have happened to you (as to me), br I think you'll be found to agree br With yours truly, when sadly he sings: br br 'How many the troubles that wait br On mortals!—especially those br Who endeavour in eloquent prose br To expound their views, and orate.