A Monody, by A Victim
“My mother bids me bind my hair,”
And not go about such a figure;
It’s a bother, of course, but what do I care?
I shall do as I please when I’m bigger.
“My lodging is on the cold, cold ground,”
As the first-floor and attics were taken.
I tried the garret but once, and found
That my wish for a change was mistaken.
“Ever of thee!” yes, “Ever of thee!”
They chatter more and more,
Till I groan aloud, “Oh! let me be!
“I have heard it all before!”
“Please remember the organ, sir;”
What? hasn’t he left me yet?
I promise, good man; for its tedious burr
I never can forget.
Ch. Ch. B. B.