XII

But if I go and say to my old hen:

I’ll mend the gentry’s boots, and keep discreet,

Until they grow _too_ violent,—why, then,

A warmer welcome I might chance to meet:

Warmer and better.

And if she fancies her old cock is beat,

And drops upon her knees—so let her!

Poems — Volume 1 · 第 140 / 271 题