Classic Poem

The Day was come, the Morning fine,
 You, Madam, promis'd us at Nine;
James rose at Six, and struck a Light,
Mop'd o'er his Room, set all Things right;
Then clean'd my Shoes, and bid me rise.
I gap'd, and stretch'd, and rub'd my Eyes—
For Shame! said he, what lie 'till Noon?
Why Mira will be coming soon——
Get up and blow, while I fetch Tea,
The Room's all over wet, you see!
Dear me, should Mira find it thus,
She'd scold, and fret, and make such Fuss!

 Well, up got I, and down goes Fem ,
Buys Sugar, Butter, Tea, and Cream,
Comes back, and finds me making Rhime—
Bless us! you don't regard the Time!
How can you fit in all your Dirt?
Get shav'd, and wash'd, and put on your Shirt—
It wants but half an Hour—The Deuce
It don't! quoth I, dear James , a Truce—
L—d, I was writing Verses on her—
Verses? Do something else upon her!
Believe me, John , 'tis downright Dreaming;
There's better Ways of pleasing Women.

 The Clock struck Nine, the Water boild,
The Cups were rins'd, the Board was pil'd;
James borrow'd Landlady's new Pot,
And Store of Bread and Butter cut——
In short, the Equipage was ready,
But not a Tittle of the Lady——
What should we do? why, wait 'till Ten——
Well, so we did——no Mira then——
What now? now drink the Tea without her,
And vex ourselves no more about her.

 Agreed—— James manages the Matter,
Pours out the Tea, pours in the Water——
Six Cups a piece——both Tast and Hue
Permit, once more, at least, to brew——
Thought James , we'll leave no Strength behind,
So fills the Tea-pot to his Mind,
(The Tea-pot, you must know, was Mettle)
Then decently takes off the Kettle,
And sets, where likeliest to perform it,
The destin'd Utensil to warm it.

 Misfortunes now come a great Pace on,
James turns about, and breaks a Bason;
Mean while the Fire becomes too hot
For Landlady's ill-fated Pot.

 All lesser Passions yield to greater——
(So hold the Wise, who study Nature)
With Love Respect was never found;
And Fear in Misery is drown'd:
So present Woes admit no Room
To Dread of Woes that are to come.
James view'd the Fragments on the Floor;
He stamp'd, he scratch'd his Head, he swore;
Fate and his Elbow jointly curs'd;
And thought they both had done their worst,

 Alas! poor James , thou didst not know,
What thou must bear, what Fate cou'd do!
Much heavier was the Load behind!
More heavy still when both were join'd!
Too soon thy Soul, distracted, felt it,
A Bason broke, a Tea-pot melted!

 Disastrous thus the Moments flew,
Devoted first to Love and you;
Your Absence caus'd our various Woes,
As thus the Muse, instructed, shows:
The Guardian Sylphs, expecting, came
To wait around their fav'rite Dame;
They found you not, and, in Despair,
Wrought this Revenge upon the Ware.

 How James 's Soul was tortur'd now,
How swell'd his Breast, how look'd his Brow,
To make it in Description shine,
Demands a Skill surpassing mine——
The Storm collected in his Mind,
Whether at you or me design'd,
Nor he could for his Life express,
Nor I was capable to guess——
Thus much, however, I can swear——
Let James deny it, if he dare!
While the big Passion wrought within,
And sparkling at his Eyes was seen,
It just permitted him to mutter——
One Shilling Tea, and Bread and Butter!
My Set of Cups, one would not patch it,
So there goes G—d knows what to match it!
Then half a Crown the Pot for Madam!
These Women, would the D——l had 'em!