EPILOGUE TO FIFINE


1872

THE HOUSEHOLDER


I

Savage I was sitting in my house, late, lone:
Dreary, weary with the long day's work:
Head of me, heart of me, stupid as a stone:
Tongue-tied now, now blaspheming like a Turk;
When, in a moment, just a knock, call, cry,
Half a pang and all a rapture, there again were we!--
"What, and is it really you again?" quoth I:
"I again, what else did you expect?" quoth She.


II

"Never mind, hie away from this old house--
Every crumbling brick embrowned with sin and shame!
Quick, in its corners ere certain shapes arouse!
Let them--every devil of the night--lay claim,
Make and mend, or rap and rend, for me! Good-bye!
God be their guard from disturbance at their glee,
Till, crash, comes down the carcass in a heap!" quoth I:
"Nay, but there's a decency required!" quoth She.