 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
28
THE POOR FARM.
The traveller man looketh over the wall
Where the pauper poor is hoeing;
The corn is sickly and very small,
As if too weak to be growing.
Where the pauper poor is hoeing;
The corn is sickly and very small,
As if too weak to be growing.
And the leaves on the trees are sparse and dry,
And the weeds are so thin and drooping,
They scarcely the strength of the pauper try,
As he for their ruin is stooping.
And the weeds are so thin and drooping,
They scarcely the strength of the pauper try,
As he for their ruin is stooping.
“Old fellow,” then cried the traveller man,
As he looked there over the wall,
“Is n't this the spot,—just say, if you can,—
That people the ‘Poor Farm’ call?”
As he looked there over the wall,
“Is n't this the spot,—just say, if you can,—
That people the ‘Poor Farm’ call?”
Then the pauper rested upon his hoe,
And the traveller man he scanned,
As he wiped his hand on his trousers of tow,
And then wiped his brow with his hand.
And the traveller man he scanned,
As he wiped his hand on his trousers of tow,
And then wiped his brow with his hand.
“The ‘poor farm,’ I fegs!” quoth the pauper poor,
“And well may they call it so;
For, 'tween you and me and the work-house door,
'T is the poorest farm I know.”
“And well may they call it so;
For, 'tween you and me and the work-house door,
'T is the poorest farm I know.”
29
Then loudly did laugh the pauper bold,—
He laughed with a goodly cheer,
And the traveller's blood ran chill and cold
Such levity to hear.
He laughed with a goodly cheer,
And the traveller's blood ran chill and cold
Such levity to hear.
'Tis bad in the reckless city's round
To list to the horrid pun,
But it comes with a force far more profound
From the lips of a work-house one.
To list to the horrid pun,
But it comes with a force far more profound
From the lips of a work-house one.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |