And she was weeping there at one.
After the flitting of the bats,
She gazed adown the dreary street,
But nought her aching sight did meet,
Save one policeman and two cats.
She only said, “My life is dreary,
He cometh not,” she said;
She said, “And if he cometh beery,
He’s sure to punch my head!”
About the middle of the night,