No. III.
“I’d be a Parody.”—BAILEY.
WEmet—’twas in a mob—and I thought he had done me—I felt—I could not feel—for no watch was upon me;He ran—the night was cold—and his pace was unalter’d,I too longed much to pelt—but my small-boned legs falter’d.I wore my bran new boots—and unrivall’d their brightness,They fit me to a hair—how I hated their tightness!I call’d, but no one came, and my stride had a tether;Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather!And once again we met—and an old pal was near him,He swore a something low—but ’twas no use to fear him;I seized upon his arm, he was mine and mine only,And stept—as he deserv’d—to cells wretched and lonely:And there he will be tried—but I shall ne’er receive her,The watch that went too sure for an artful deceiver;The world may think me gay—heart and feet ache together,Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather.
WEmet—’twas in a mob—and I thought he had done me—I felt—I could not feel—for no watch was upon me;He ran—the night was cold—and his pace was unalter’d,I too longed much to pelt—but my small-boned legs falter’d.I wore my bran new boots—and unrivall’d their brightness,They fit me to a hair—how I hated their tightness!I call’d, but no one came, and my stride had a tether;Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather!And once again we met—and an old pal was near him,He swore a something low—but ’twas no use to fear him;I seized upon his arm, he was mine and mine only,And stept—as he deserv’d—to cells wretched and lonely:And there he will be tried—but I shall ne’er receive her,The watch that went too sure for an artful deceiver;The world may think me gay—heart and feet ache together,Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather.
WEmet—’twas in a mob—and I thought he had done me—I felt—I could not feel—for no watch was upon me;He ran—the night was cold—and his pace was unalter’d,I too longed much to pelt—but my small-boned legs falter’d.I wore my bran new boots—and unrivall’d their brightness,They fit me to a hair—how I hated their tightness!I call’d, but no one came, and my stride had a tether;Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather!
WEmet—’twas in a mob—and I thought he had done me—
I felt—I could not feel—for no watch was upon me;
He ran—the night was cold—and his pace was unalter’d,
I too longed much to pelt—but my small-boned legs falter’d.
I wore my bran new boots—and unrivall’d their brightness,
They fit me to a hair—how I hated their tightness!
I call’d, but no one came, and my stride had a tether;
Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather!
And once again we met—and an old pal was near him,He swore a something low—but ’twas no use to fear him;I seized upon his arm, he was mine and mine only,And stept—as he deserv’d—to cells wretched and lonely:And there he will be tried—but I shall ne’er receive her,The watch that went too sure for an artful deceiver;The world may think me gay—heart and feet ache together,Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather.
And once again we met—and an old pal was near him,
He swore a something low—but ’twas no use to fear him;
I seized upon his arm, he was mine and mine only,
And stept—as he deserv’d—to cells wretched and lonely:
And there he will be tried—but I shall ne’er receive her,
The watch that went too sure for an artful deceiver;
The world may think me gay—heart and feet ache together,
Ohthouhast been the cause of this anguish, my leather.
STOP HIM!
STOP HIM!