Page 9 - Poetry-Whimsy

Next Door!

My heart now feels a sort of an expansion,
I shall again my peace of mind restore;
I’ve taken a new house—with such a mansion,
Next door!

Upon my face no wrinkles I discover,—
Besides, I’ve still the best of life before,
And may-be I may find another lover,
Next door!

‘Tis very strange that, after all my labours,
This mystery I cannot yet explore:
I should so like to know who are my neighbours,
Next door!

I’ve made inquiries of my servant Betty,
Who knows “what’s what,” and doubtless something more;
She says she’s seen a lady rather pretty,
Next door!

I’m on the rack! I’m bursting with vexation!
I’ve watched the window till my eyes were sore,
But I know nothing of their name or station,
Next door!

Perhaps ‘tis Smith, or Jones—nay, I’m not joking!
Or Johnson, Thomson, White—or Store, or Gore;
I can’t tell what they are—they’re so provoking,
Next door!

They eat enough to satisfy a glutton,
Yet meat this week is not a farthing low’r.
The butcher’s left another leg of mutton,
Next door!

There are the pies returning from the baker’s—
They must be running up a pretty score!
I don’t believe they’re Methodists or Quakers,
Next door!

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