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Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold

By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition

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LIZ.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

LIZ.

Lazy Liz has a head that is fuzzy as fur
And she looks like a kitten,
If rubbed the right way she will certainly purr,
But if not you'll be bitten.
There she lies on the doorstep and basks in the sun,
In her unadorned patches;
And though free with scratches,
I know they are mostly in innocent fun!
There she lies in her plumpness, a picture to make
For a mother to keep,
Half-awake,
Half-asleep.
Lazy Liz is an animal more than a girl,
And a thing to be cuddled
And kissed and kept far from the racket and whirl,
Wherein we must be huddled;
She has no sense of time, and no talent for toil
And exists for mere slumber,
Like pure precious lumber,
Curled up by herself in a beautiful coil.
If you stroke her, those big eyes of drowsiest ken
Will with something like pain
Ope, and then
Shut again.
Lazy Liz only rouses to eat and to drink
And grows visibly fatter,
She cannot afford to lose even one wink
On a less urgent matter;
Sometimes a stray dog has been seen on her head
And without her awaking,
Of course from mistaking
Her hair for a doormat conveniently spread;

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While the sparrows come down and alight on her neck
And, completing her pose,
Hop and peck
At her nose.
Lazy Liz has been known to sleep twice round the clock
And then still to be sleepy,
In spite of four fights and the constable's knock
Which made other folks creepy;
Her large-lidded eyes have the nebulous look
As of far-away being
And other-world seeing,
When opening a moment their mystical book.
And I fancy the “kitten” we pet is no clue,
Though it's nicely put on,
And the true
Child is gone.