Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold :: :: University of Virginia Library

Here is all alone Podge
With his singular habits
And face like a rabbit's,
Determined to dodge
Every creature that comes in his singular way—
How he lives, where he sojourns, no person can say;
And it does not much matter
To you or to me,
Only neighbours will chatter
And no two agree;
But he makes no companions, and still as a stone
Through the day and at night he endures all alone—
All alone,
All alone.

Podge abides in a mist,
He is careful of clothing
And seems to have nothing
To do but exist;
He is very particular too with his breath,
Never speaks to a soul, and goes silent as death
Up and down court and alley
Seeking what he can't find;
Even Sue and gay Sally
Are not to his mind;
He's been seen to pick quarrels with dogs for a bone,
But he did it believing he was all alone—
All alone,
All alone.

Podge is never too slow,
And the sternest disaster
Will not drive him faster,
If hurricanes blow;
At the same even pace on the same dreary round,
Wet or dry, hot or cold, he seems fatally bound;
And the same dull expression
Appears on his face,
But it yields no confession
The wisest can trace;

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If he talked it would be with the same level tone,
In the presence of hell, for he lives all alone—
All alone,
All alone.

Do not reckon poor Podge
Will explain if he passes
For beer in full glasses,
Where he loves to lodge;
No policeman can help you, and no one has seen
Him asleep or half tipsy when others have been;
He allows not a pleasure
Nor symptom of pain—
Not a moment of leisure,
Nor does he complain;
In a world by himself, no geography's zone,
Deaf and dumb, blind and dead, he resides all alone—
All alone,
All alone.