And 'tis darkness so dismally deep!
And I'm waiting, and waiting, and waiting,
Like the chap in "A Garden of Sleep."
I've been patiently waiting to meet her,
Till I'm thoroughly sick of this gloom;
It is ten by my Benson repeater—
It was six when I entered the room!
But I must not begin to grow weary,
And to stamp, and to fret, and to curse!
The surroundings are certainly dreary,