I confess, "when first I saw your
Face," I swore--
One or two mild objurgations,
Nothing more.
When and where I got you I can
Not divine,
All I do know is the fact that
You are mine.
Yes, I _was_ an unsuspecting
Sort of muff,
Everybody else suspects you
Fast enough.
Bus-conductors, shopmen, cabbies,
Booking-clerks
All decline you, sometimes adding
Rude remarks:
You have danced on sundry counters,
And advice
Not to "try it on" 's been given me
Once or twice.
Were you not a paltry "bob," but
Half-a-crown,
You might be of use and save a
Nimble "brown":
For you'd find yourself right quickly
In the slot,
Were you of the right dimensions--
But you're not.
I'm beginning to assume a
Hang-dog air,
For I feel my conduct's hardly
"On the square."
Now I leave church early (though I
Get there late),
Lest I may be moved to put you
In the plate!
That last spark of decent feeling
I possess,
But my character you've ruined,
More or less:
So it's time, old pewter shilling,
We should part,
Which--I lose at least a cab-fare--
Breaks my heart.
* * * * *
There! I've thrown you in the river,
And at last
I can thank my stars devoutly,
You are "passed"!