 | Massachusetts and other poems |  |
60
“WHAT TIME IS IT?”
“What time is it?” How oft we hear,
In walks of common life,
This question asked, and yet appear
To heed it not, although, I fear,
With meaning it is rife.
In walks of common life,
This question asked, and yet appear
To heed it not, although, I fear,
With meaning it is rife.
“What time is it?” the drunkard asks,
The answer here is plain;
'Tis time to leave your brandy-flasks,
To pay attention to your tasks,
And health and comfort gain.
The answer here is plain;
'Tis time to leave your brandy-flasks,
To pay attention to your tasks,
And health and comfort gain.
“What time is it?” inquires the fop,
Who daily struts the street;
'Tis time your lounging ways to drop,
Your monkeyfied moustaches crop,
Your tailor's bills to meet.
Who daily struts the street;
'Tis time your lounging ways to drop,
Your monkeyfied moustaches crop,
Your tailor's bills to meet.
“What time is it?” the gambler cries;
The answer I'll be giving;
'Tis time to leave your cards and dice,
Your cheating, knavery, and lies,
And gain an honest living.
The answer I'll be giving;
'Tis time to leave your cards and dice,
Your cheating, knavery, and lies,
And gain an honest living.
“What time is it?” now next inquires
The hungry office-seeker;
'Tis time to quench your faction-fires,
To think of other men's desires,
And be a little meeker.
The hungry office-seeker;
'Tis time to quench your faction-fires,
To think of other men's desires,
And be a little meeker.
| Massachusetts and other poems | |