In Grim Array

In grim array of play and pay,
With Kings, Queens, Knaves, and Rubbers,
Your sprightly wit delights to sit
Altho’ it be with Lubbers;

Your smiles are due to Cass, and Loo,
And eke your frowns so dreary,
Then let us see what luck you’ve had
And be a little cheary;

One Valentine I’ve lost to you,
Eleven to me you’ll render,
I’ve sent but slip-slop stuff too true,
Let your returns be tender.