The Old Man’s Discomforts
With obeisances to the estate of R. Southey, dec’d.
“You are cold, Father William,” the young man cried,
“You shiver the length of the day;
“You are chill, Father William, your hands are as ice,
Now tell me the reason, I pray.”
“You shiver the length of the day;
“You are chill, Father William, your hands are as ice,
Now tell me the reason, I pray.”
“In the flat where I live,” Father William replied,
“Though it is an expensive demesne.
The heat is turned off from eleven at night
Till morning at seven-fifteen.”
“Though it is an expensive demesne.
The heat is turned off from eleven at night
Till morning at seven-fifteen.”
“You are cold, Father William,” the young man cried
“Though you live in a beautiful flat,
You constantly swear at the boreal air—
Pray slip me the reason for that.”
“Though you live in a beautiful flat,
You constantly swear at the boreal air—
Pray slip me the reason for that.”
“In my costly abode,” Father William replied,
“The casements are fashioned so ill
That the wind enters in till the temp-er-a-ture
Of my bedroom is way below nil.”
“The casements are fashioned so ill
That the wind enters in till the temp-er-a-ture
Of my bedroom is way below nil.”
“You are cold, Father William,” the young man cried,
“As I animadverted before.
And yet you pay many doubloons for your rent—
Pray, Pa, juxtapose me once more.”
“As I animadverted before.
And yet you pay many doubloons for your rent—
Pray, Pa, juxtapose me once more.”
“The rent that I pay,” Father William replied,
“Is paid not for windows nor steam;
But the entrance downstairs is of marble and gold.”
And that’s no impalpable dream.
“Is paid not for windows nor steam;
But the entrance downstairs is of marble and gold.”
And that’s no impalpable dream.