 | The Ingoldsby Lyrics |  |
282
To T. Ryde, Esq.
WITH A PRESENT OF BLACK CLOTH.
My dear Mr. Ryde,
The cloth I confide
To your messenger tried,
Safe sealed up and tied.
It can't be denied
That though rough it's well dyed,
And sufficiently wide
(Or my tailor has lied)
To cover your hide
From ancle to side.
The cloth I confide
To your messenger tried,
Safe sealed up and tied.
It can't be denied
That though rough it's well dyed,
And sufficiently wide
(Or my tailor has lied)
To cover your hide
From ancle to side.
If you're going to ride,
Or this winter decide
Upon learning to slide
On the Thames or the Clyde—
A thing I always shied,
And could never “abide,”
From motives allied
To a feeling of pride,
As too undignified—
On the ice ere you glide,
Such smallclothes provide
As fit well in the stride.
Or this winter decide
Upon learning to slide
On the Thames or the Clyde—
A thing I always shied,
And could never “abide,”
From motives allied
To a feeling of pride,
As too undignified—
On the ice ere you glide,
Such smallclothes provide
As fit well in the stride.
283
The cloth, says my bride,
Ere the needle is plied,
Should be damped and then dried;
And when thus purified
They'll be jet black, not pied.
In this I coincide.
Ere the needle is plied,
Should be damped and then dried;
And when thus purified
They'll be jet black, not pied.
In this I coincide.
Adieu, my dear Ryde,
All good fortune betide
Yourself, my good friend, and your breeches beside.
All good fortune betide
Yourself, my good friend, and your breeches beside.
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