ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY COAL-BIN
The furnace tolls the knell of falling steam,
The coal supply is virtually done,
As though we could afford another ton.
The radiators lose their temperature:
The "short and simple flannels of the poor."
The rude forefathers of the omelet sleep,
We cannot cook again till coal is cheap.
Revivify the failing pressure-gauge?
And burn the East Aurora parrot-cage!
Full many a can of purest kerosene
The dark unfathomed tanks of Standard Oil
To bring my morning coffee to a boil.
How ill avail, on such a frosty night....