V
On sped the pram nor did the nurse’s paceLeave time to miss our hero from his place.Flat by the curb lay Jocko, still and pale,Till a rude sparrow plucked him by the tailAnd up he sat;—the sparrow hopped aroundAnd eyed him seated sadly on the ground,Propped up against the parapet and greyWith grime and dust that in the gutter lay.Then Jocko spoke, he smoothed his sullied furWith one long trembling paw, and thought of herAnd said, all torn betwixt his love and pain,—“I will go back no more to Betsey-Jane.”
On sped the pram nor did the nurse’s paceLeave time to miss our hero from his place.Flat by the curb lay Jocko, still and pale,Till a rude sparrow plucked him by the tailAnd up he sat;—the sparrow hopped aroundAnd eyed him seated sadly on the ground,Propped up against the parapet and greyWith grime and dust that in the gutter lay.Then Jocko spoke, he smoothed his sullied furWith one long trembling paw, and thought of herAnd said, all torn betwixt his love and pain,—“I will go back no more to Betsey-Jane.”
On sped the pram nor did the nurse’s paceLeave time to miss our hero from his place.Flat by the curb lay Jocko, still and pale,Till a rude sparrow plucked him by the tailAnd up he sat;—the sparrow hopped aroundAnd eyed him seated sadly on the ground,Propped up against the parapet and greyWith grime and dust that in the gutter lay.Then Jocko spoke, he smoothed his sullied furWith one long trembling paw, and thought of herAnd said, all torn betwixt his love and pain,—“I will go back no more to Betsey-Jane.”