Says I, “Solomon’s lilies ain’t in it, and they was reputed well dress’d.”
But not far did we wend,
When we saw Pippa pass
On the arm of a friend
—Dr. Furnivall ’t was,
And he wore in his hat two half-tickets for London, return, second-class.
“Well,” I thought, “this is odd.”
But we came pretty quick
To a sort of a quad
That was all of red brick,