Classic Poem

The scenes of my childhood, how oft I recall!
The sports of my youth, with my kite, top, and ball;
And that happy day when, with spirits elate,
I took my first step towards manhood's estate,
With a new coat and vest, bosom shirt and cravat,
And debut with my infundibuliform hat.

How I stooped beneath awnings full seven feet high,
To the no small delight of my friends passing by;
And the sport that I made for the boys at the store
When I " chalked " at the height of my " tile " on the door;
One foot and two inches — I think it was that —
My guess on that infundibuliform hat.

Then my maiden attempt as a maiden's gallant
When I proffered my elbow, with glances aslant;
And the walk to her dwelling that evening so fair,
Not to speak of the tête-a-tête got there,
The forfeit I claimed, as together we sat,
When she tried on my infundibuliform hat.

*****

Well! boys will be boys, and we men, after all,
Would gladly be freed from Time's pitiless thrall,
And live those days over, when, single and free —
Zounds! wife's looking over my shoulder to see
What I have been writing. . . . Well, we've had a spat,
And she smashed my infundibuliform hat.