The Poet's Hat

A poem by Robert Fuller Murray

The rain had fallen, the Poet arose,
He passed through the doorway into the street,
A strong wind lifted his hat from his head,
And he uttered some words that were far from sweet.
And then he started to follow the chase,
And put on a spurt that was wild and fleet,
It made the people pause in a crowd,
And lay odds as to which would beat.

The street cad scoffed as he hunted the hat,
The errand-boy shouted hooray!
The scavenger stood with his broom in his hand,
And smiled in a very rude way;
And the clergyman thought, 'I have heard many words,
But never, until to-day,
Did I hear any words that were quite so bad
As I heard that young man say.'

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