The sun was slumbering in the West, <br />My daily labors past; <br />On Anna's soft and gentle breast <br />My head reclined at last; <br />The darkness closed around, so dear <br />To fond congenial souls, <br />And thus she murmur'd at my ear, <br />"My love, we're out of coals! <br /> <br />"That Mister Bond has call'd again, <br />Insisting on his rent; <br />And all the Todds are coming up <br />To see us, out of Kent -- <br />I quite forgot to tell you John <br />Has had a tipsy fall -- <br />I'm sure there's something going on <br />WIth that vile Mary Hall! <br /> <br />"Miss Bell has bought the sweetest silk, <br />And I have bought the rest -- <br />Of course, if we go out of town, <br />Southend will be the best. <br />I really think the Jones's house <br />Would be the thing for us; <br />I think I told you Mrs. Pope <br />Had parted with her hus -- <br /> <br />"Cook , by the way, came up today, <br />To bid me suit myself -- <br />And what d'ye think? The rats have gnaw'd <br />The victuals on the shelf, <br />And, lord! there's such a letter come, <br />Inviting you to fight! <br />Of course you don't intend to go -- <br />God bless you, dear, good night!"<br /><br />Thomas Hood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sun-was-slumbering-in-the-west/
