IN TOWN.

Toiling in Town now is “horrid,”

( There is that woman again! ) —

June in the zenith is torrid,

Thought gets dry in the brain.

There is that woman again:

“Strawberries! fourpence a pottle!”

Thought gets dry in the brain;

Ink gets dry in the bottle.

“Strawberries! fourpence a pottle!”

Oh for the green of a lane!—

Ink gets dry in the bottle;

“Buzz” goes a fly in the pane!

Oh for the green of a lane,

Where one might lie and be lazy!

“Buzz” goes a fly in the pane;

Bluebottles drive me crazy!

Where one might lie and be lazy,

Careless of Town and all in it!—

Bluebottles drive me crazy:

I shall go mad in a minute!

Careless of Town and all in it,

With some one to soothe and to still you;—

I shall go mad in a minute;

Bluebottle, then I shall kill you!

With some one to soothe and to still you,

As only one's feminine kin do,—

Bluebottle, then I shall kill you:

There now! I've broken the window!

As only one's feminine kin do,—

Some muslin-clad Mabel or May!—

There now! I've broken the window!

Bluebottle's off and away!

Some muslin-clad Mabel or May,

To dash one with eau de Cologne;—

Bluebottle's off and away;

And why should I stay here alone!

To dash one with eau de Cologne,

All over one's eminent forehead;—

And why should I stay here alone!

Toiling in Town now is “horrid.”