 | Havelock's March and Other Poems |  |
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POOR BIDDY.
Poor Biddy was peculiarly proud,
And often passed along the public road
Riding a Stick: she would have been a witch
In the old days, and wierdly filled her niche.
And often passed along the public road
Riding a Stick: she would have been a witch
In the old days, and wierdly filled her niche.
The mocking Bairns would cry, as she would stalk,
“Biddy, you might as well on two legs walk;”
And she would say, says she, the poor daftling!
“I might! but for the grandeur of the thing.”
“Biddy, you might as well on two legs walk;”
And she would say, says she, the poor daftling!
“I might! but for the grandeur of the thing.”
Alas, how many pitiful tricks we play
Like Biddy, in less Natural kind o' way:
And ride our stick, and have our foolish fling,
God help us! for the grandeur of the thing.
Like Biddy, in less Natural kind o' way:
And ride our stick, and have our foolish fling,
God help us! for the grandeur of the thing.
| Havelock's March and Other Poems | |