In a tumbler of port-wine soaken.
"That your life is left you, thank the stag!"
Said they when—the slow cure ended—
They opened the hospital-door, and thence
—Strapped, spliced, main fractures mended,
And minor damage left wisely alone,—
Like an old shoe clouted and cobbled,
Out—what went in a Goliath wellnigh,—
Some half of a David hobbled.
"You must ask an alms from house to house: