Here lies the remains of John Todd, Not dead, but drunk, by God! — MOLESKIN. JOE is dead? Of course he is, Dead as any nail can be, Look upon that face of his — See, if you are sober, see The unutterable peace Stamped upon his countenance — See, and let your prattle cease, Give the dead man half a chance. Joe is dead? Of course he's dead; Hair dishevelled on his brow, Lay him on the model bed, Nought avails to wake him now. See, the jar is almost full — Look, I've piles and piles of dough — Moleskin, have another pull. Not an answer. Poor — old — Joe. Give the fallen man his due, He was one that always could Take a modest pint or two, Just as any navvy should, Do a week or two in jile, Strike a bargain with a fence, Fight his man in perfect style, Play the game, and stump the pence. Poor old Joe is lying dead Drunk as e'er a man can be, Lay some lager near his head So when waking he may see — Softly let us go to sleep, Be your voices hushed and low. Hark his snoring loud and deep — Peace be with your slumber, Joe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIDE-BY-NIGHTS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE HIS REQUEST TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK WHEN THE COWS COME HOME by AGNES E. MITCHELL SONNET: 97 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONNET: MAN VERSUS ASCETIC. 5 by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |