Lays of Sorrow

1The day was wet, the rain fell souse

2Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a

3sound was heard in the old henhouse,

4A beating of a hammer.

5Of stalwart form, and visage warm,

6Two youths were seen within it,

7Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry

8At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.

9The work is done, the hen has taken

10Possession of her nest and eggs,

11Without a thought of eggs and bacon, [3]

12(Or I am very much mistaken happy)

13She turns over each shell,

14To be sure that all's well,

15Looks into the straw

16To see there's no flaw,

17Goes once round the house, [4]

18Half afraid of a mouse,

19Then sinks calmly to rest

20On the top of her nest,

21First doubling up each of her legs.

22Time rolled away, and so did every shell,

23"Small by degrees and beautifully less,"

24As the large mother with a powerful spell [5]

25Forced each in turn its contents to express, [6]

26But ah! "imperfect is expression,"

27Some poet said, I don't care who,

28If you want to know you must go elsewhere,

29One fact I can tell, if you're willing to hear,

30He never attended a Parliament Session,

31For I'm certain that if he had ever been there,

32Full quickly would he have changed his ideas,

33With the hissings, the hootings, the groans and the cheers.

34And as to his name it is pretty clear

35That it wasn't me and it wasn't you!