University of Virginia Library


41

The Splinter.

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Where's the philosopher can bear the toothache patiently?

One stormy day in winter,
When all the world was snow,
I chanced upon a splinter,
Which ran into my toe.
The world went round:
The stubborn ground
Defied the deadliest dinter:
They brought me tea,
And muffins three:
My little maid
Fetched marmalade:
My grace I said,
And breakfasted:
But all that morn in winter
I thought about the splinter.
At ten o'clock
The postman's knock:
A friend was dead:
Another wed:
Two invitations:
Five objurgations:

42

A screed from my solicitor:
They brought the Times:
A list of crimes:
A deadly fight
'Twixt black and white:
A note from “B”
On Mr. G.,
And other things
From cats to Kings,
Known to that grand Inquisitor:—
But all that morn in winter,
I thought about the splinter.
But, oh; at last
A lady passed
Beside my chamber casement,
With modest guise
And down-cast eyes
And fair beyond amazement:
She passed away
Like some bright fay
Too fair for earthly regions,
So sweet a sight
Would put to flight
The fiend and all his legions!
And I, that noon in winter,
Forgot the cruel splinter.