Your late kind Gift let me restore;
For I must never wear it more.
My Mother cries, ``What's here to do?
``A Crimson Velvet Cap for you!
``If to these Heights so soon you climb,
``You'll wear a Coachman's Cap in time:
``Perhaps on Palfry pace along,
``With ruffled Shirt, and Tete--Moutton;
``Banish the Woman from your Face,
``And let the Rake supply the Place;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem