Forth from the ill-lit tavern door

Where he had snoozed and boozed before

Stumbled his shambling feet.

A candle gave a guttering light,

And some one growled a hoarse good-night....

The Tramp was in the street.

His boots were blistered, burst and patched,

He had a mildewed hat, which matched

His green, unlovely coat.

Once, too, he caught his foot and swore,