I'm sadly afraid of my Old Complaint— Dying of thirst.—Not a drop have I drunk For more than an hour: 'Tis too long to wait. Wonderful how my spirits have sunk! Provocation enough it is for a saint, To suffer so much from my Old Complaint! What is it like, my Old Complaint? I'll tell you anon, since you wish to know. It troubles me now, but it troubled me first When I was a youngster, years ago! Bubble-and-squeak is the image quaint Of what it is like, my Old Complaint!. The Herring in a very few minutes, we're told, Loses his life, ta'en out of the sea; Rob me of wine, and you'll behold Just the same thing happen to me. Thirst makes the poor little Herring so faint;— Thirst is the cause of my Old Complaint. The bibulous Salmon is ill content, Unless he batheth his jowl in brine: And so, my spirits are quickly spent Unless I dip @3my@1 muzzle in Wine! Myself in the jolly old Salmon I paint:— Wine is the cure of my Old Complaint! Give me full bottles and no restraint And little you'll hear of my Old Complaint. I never indulge in fanciful stuff, Or idly prate, if my flagon be full; Give me good Claret, and give me enough, And then my spirits are never dull. Give me good Claret and no Constraint; And I soon get rid of my Old Complaint. Herring and Salmon my friends will acquaint With the Cause and the Cure of my Old Complaint! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOMAN, GALLUP, N.M. by KAREN SWENSON DISCORDANTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: SUNRISE by SIDNEY LANIER LOVE AND AGE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD by WALT WHITMAN THE CANDLE by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM IMITATIONS OF SHAKESPEARE: A STORM by JOHN ARMSTRONG |