I think that a Ballade is bosh!
I know I am looking a fright;
That knowledge, I know, is in vain;
My “brolly” is not water-tight,
But hopelessly rended in twain
And spoilt by the rude hurricane!
Though clad in a stout mackintosh,
My temper I scarce can restrain—
I think that a Ballade is bosh!
Oh, I’m an unfortunate wight!