LINES BY A TIRED CITY CLERK.
113
LINES BY A TIRED CITY CLERK.
Enviously dedicated to King Thee-Baw of Burmah.
I am weary here, and lonely;
And I wish that I could only
Be a monarch, or a prince in Eastern land;
For my life is full of worry,
And I'm damned, and told to hurry;
And I drive a weary quill with weary hand.
And I wish that I could only
Be a monarch, or a prince in Eastern land;
For my life is full of worry,
And I'm damned, and told to hurry;
And I drive a weary quill with weary hand.
I would be a frowning Rajah
Fierce and gray as any badger,
With a cimeter of crooked limber steel,
And a turban turned, and twisted;
And if any man resisted
My authority, I'd cleave him to the heel.
Fierce and gray as any badger,
With a cimeter of crooked limber steel,
And a turban turned, and twisted;
And if any man resisted
My authority, I'd cleave him to the heel.
