The Height of the Ridiculous
I WROTE some lines once on a timeIn wondrous merry mood,And thought, as usual, men would sayThey 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 himTo 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 faceWas all upon the grin.
He read the next; the grin grew broad,And shot from ear to ear;He read the third; a chuckling noiseI 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 writeAs funny as I can.
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