But Smith (Sid. Smith). This chap took off
His flesh an’ lolled ’round in his bones
(But it killed him;—caught cold, and died of a cough).
I can’t begin to tell how hot
It was—it can’t be even guessed.
It’s still so all-infernal hot
I can’t begin to try to rest.
A YEAR AGO.
A year ago
I held the fondest hopes