'Twere hard indeed to try to get
A theme without some poem on it--
A vilanelle, a triolet,
An ode, an epic, or a sonnet.
CASTARA'S charms were sung of old,
Both SWIFT and SIDNEY, wrote to STELLA,
But mine it is to first unfold
The praise of my beloved Umbrella.
[Illustration]
You are not difficult to please,
Although no doubt a trifle "knobby;"
Whilst I'm reclining at mine ease,
I leave you standing in the lobby.
I ever treat you thus, and yet
I haven't got a friend who's firmer;
In point of fact, you even let
Me shut you up without a murmur.
Now some seek solace sweet in smoke,
And make a pipe their AMARYLLIS;
So think not that I do but joke
In calling you my darling PHYLLIS.
And though the gossips never spare
For ill-report to seek a handle,
The (indiarubber) ring you wear
Prevents the very thought of scandal.
"Fair weather, friend," we've often heard
Used as a term to throw discredit,
Though clearly it were quite absurd
If speaking of yourself one said it.
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