When I came back, I gazed about—I gazed on stool and chair,
I could not see that great big man—because he was not there!
I looked into the coal-box, and beneath the sofa too:
I said, “You great big vulgar man, why, what’s become of you?”
I put my glasses on my nose, and looked, but could not see
The rat-tailed spoons I’ve always used these sixty years at tea;
I could not see my sugar-tongs, my good gold watch—oh, dear!
I know ’twas on the mantelpiece when I went out for beer.
I could not see my Inverness—it was not to be seen;
Nor yet my season ticket, with a strap and bound in green