You read, but still your face was calm-- (I scanned it closely, wretched sinner!) You showed no sign---I felt a qualm-- And then the waitress brought your dinner. Those modest rhymes, you thought them fair? And will you sometimes praise or quote them? And do you ask why I should care? Oh, Lady, it was I who wrote them! THOUGHTS ON SETTING AN ALARM CLOCK Mark the monitory dial, Set the gong for six a.m.-- Then, until the hour of trial, Clock a little sleep, pro tem. As I crank the dread alarum Stern resolve I try to fix: My ideals, shall I mar 'em When the awful moment ticks? Heaven strengthen my intention, Grant me grace my vow to keep: Would the law enforced Prevention Of such Cruelty to Sleep! SONGS IN A SHOWER BATH [Illustration] HOT WATER Gently, while the drenching dribble Courses down my sweltered form, I am basking like a sybil, Lazy, languorous and warm. I am unambitious, flaccid, Well content to drowse and dream: How I hate life's bitter acid-- Leave me here to stew and steam. Underneath this jet so torrid I forget the world's sad wrath: O activity is horrid! Leave me in my shower-bath! COLD WATER But when I turn the crank O Zeus! A silver ecstasy thrills me! I caper and slap my chilled thighs, I plan to make a card index of all my ideas And feel like an efficiency expert. I tweak Fate by the nose And know I could succeed in _anything_. I throw up my head And glut myself with icy splatter... To-day I will really Begin my career! ON DEDICATING A NEW TEAPOT Boiling water now is poured, Pouches filled with fresh tobacco, Round the hospitable board Fragrant steams Ceylon or Pekoe. Bread and butter is cut thin, Cream and sugar, yes, bring them on; Ginger cookies in their tin, And the dainty slice of lemon. Let the marmalade be brought, Buns of cinnamon adhesive; And, to catch the leaves, you ought To be sure to have the tea-sieve. But, before the cups be filled-- Cups that cause no ebriation-- Let a genial wish be willed Just by way of dedication. Here's your fortune, gentle pot: To our thirst you offer slakeage; Bright blue china, may I not Hope no maid will cause you breakage. Kindest ministrant to man, Long be jocund years before you, And no meaner fortune than Helen's gracious hand to pour you! THE UNFORGIVABLE SYNTAX A certain young man never knew Just when to say _whom_ and when _who_; "The question of choosing," He said, "is confusing; I wonder if _which_ wouldn't do?" Nothing is so illegitimate As a noun when his verbs do not fit him; it Makes him disturbed If not properly verbed-- If he asks for the plural, why git him it!