(To a lying weather-glass)
false and perfidious prophet Vy never known any machine So short of the mark and so off it As you have consistently been!
Three weeks have I watched you dissemble, Three weeks have you answered my stare With a pointer most anxious to tremble Right round to Fair." And most of the time it was raining:
Great storm clouds blew up from the sea, Then bashed on the mountains, thus draining Their aqueous contents And you, you incompetent lia, Persisted in calling it fine; The deeper the downpour, he dryer Your obstinate ign!
I suppose if your works were made vocal The answer received would be this—
That the rain I encountered was "local"; You registered other folk's bliss? Confound your long views altogether!
Pray, what in the world do T care If others are ha ig fine weather While I'm in despair?
Farewell, you. betrayer, I'm leaving:
But, believe me, if I were to stay lan you to keep on deceiving While rain was the rule of the day, My heart I should certainly hardens Td take you right down from your shelf And hang you outside in the garden To see: for yourself. j.duucio in "Manchester Guacdian."
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.