THE LONELY HOUSE.
I know some lonely houses off the road A robber 'd like the look of, --Wooden barred, And windows hanging low, Inviting to A portico, Where two could creep:
One hand the tools, The other peep To make sure all's asleep.
Old-fashioned eyes, Not easy to surprise!
How orderly the kitchen 'd look by night, With just a clock, --But they could gag the tick, And mice won't bark;And so the walls don't tell, None will.
A pair of spectacles ajar just stir-- An almanac's aware.
Was it the mat winked, Or a nervous star?
The moon slides down the stair To see who's there.
There's plunder, -- where?
Tankard, or spoon, Earring, or stone, A watch, some ancient brooch To match the grandmamma, Staid sleeping there.
Day rattles, too, Stealth's slow;
The sun has got as far As the third sycamore.
Screams chanticleer, "Who's there?"
And echoes, trains away, Sneer -- "Where?"
While the old couple, just astir, Fancy the sunrise left the door ajar!
