ODE TO A LONDON FOG
ROLL on, thick haze, roll on!
Through each familiar way
Roll on!
What though I must go out to-day?
What though my lungs are rather queer?
What though asthmatic ills I fear?
What though my wheeziness is clear?
Never you mind!
Roll on!
Roll on, thick haze, roll on!
Through street and square and lane
Roll on!
It's true I cough and cough again;
It's true I gasp and puff and blow;
It's true my trip may lay me low—
But that's not your affair, you know.
Never you mind!
Roll on!