The Height of the Ridiculous

I WROTE some lines once on a time

         In wondrous merry mood,

         And thought, as usual, men would say

         They were exceeding good.

         They were so queer, so very queer,

         I laughed as I would die;

         Albeit, in the general way,

         A sober man am I.

         I called my servant, and he came;

         How kind it was of him

         To mind a slender man like me,

         He of the mighty limb.

         "These to the printer," I exclaimed,

         And, in my humorous way,

         I added, (as a trifling jest,)

         "There'll be the devil to pay."

         He took the paper, and I watched,

         And saw him peep within;

         At the first line he read, his face

         Was all upon the grin.

         He read the next; the grin grew broad,

         And shot from ear to ear;

         He read the third; a chuckling noise

         I now began to hear.

         The fourth; he broke into a roar;

         The fifth; his waistband split;

         The sixth; he burst five buttons off,

         And tumbled in a fit.

         Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,

         I watched that wretched man,

         And since, I never dare to write

         As funny as I can.