The One Hoss Shay
(The style's the man, so books avow;
The style's the woman, anyhow;)
From flounces frothed with creamy lace
Peeps out the pug-dog's smutty face,
Or spaniel rolls his liquid eye,
Or stares the wiry pet of Skye;--
O woman, in your hours of ease
So shy with us, so free with these!
[Illustration: On faultless ties and glossy tiles
The lovely bonnets beam their smiles]
"Come on! I'll bet you two to one
I'll make him do it!" "Will you? Done!"
What was it who was bound to do?
I did not hear and can't tell you,--
Pray listen till my story's through.
Scarce noticed, back behind the rest,
By cart and wagon rudely prest,
The parson's lean and bony bay
Stood harnessed in his one-horse shay--
Lent to his sexton for the day;
(A funeral--so the sexton said;
His mother's uncle's wife was dead.)
Like Lazarus bid to D