run

What shall I do — it whimpers so –
This little Hound within the Heart
All day and night with bark and start –
And yet, it will not go –
Would you untie it, were you me –
Would it stop whining — if to Thee –
I sent it — even now?

It should not tease you –
By your chair — or, on the mat –
Or if it dare — to climb your dizzy knee –
Or — sometimes at your side to run –
When you were willing –
Shall it come?
Tell Carlo –
He’ll tell me!

I met a King this afternoon!
He had not on a Crown indeed,
A little Palmleaf Hat was all,
And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!

But sure I am he Ermine wore
Beneath his faded Jacket’s blue –
And sure I am, the crest he bore
Within that Jacket’s pocket too!

For ’twas too stately for an Earl –
A Marquis would not go so grand!
‘Twas possibly a Czar petite –
A Pope, or something of that kind!

If I must tell you, of a Horse
My freckled Monarch held the rein –
Doubtless an estimable Beast,
But not at all disposed to run!

And such a wagon! While I live
Dare I presume to see
Another such a vehicle
As then transported me!

Two other ragged Princes
His royal state partook!
Doubtless the first excursion
These sovereigns ever took!

I question if the Royal Coach
Round which the Footmen wait
Has the significance, on high,
Of this Barefoot Estate!

My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I’d shoot the human race
And then to glory run!