I met him down upon the pier;
His eyes were wild and sad,
And something in them made me fear
That he was going mad.
So, being of a prudent sort,
I stood some distance off,
And before speaking gave a short
Conciliatory cough.
I then observed,‘ What makes you look
So singularly glum?’
No notice of my words he took.
I said,‘ Pray, are you dumb?’
‘ Oh no!’ he said,‘ I do not think
My power of speech is lost,
But when one's hopes are black as ink,
Why, talking is a frost.
‘ You see, I'm in for Math. again,
And certain to be ploughed.
Please tell me where I could obtain
An inexpensive shroud.’
I told him where such things are had,
Well made, and not too dear;
And, feeling really very sad,
I left him on the pier.