When his heart is growing bitter and his hair is growing grey, <br />And he hears the debt-collector knocking several times a day, <br />And the shrill voice of the Missus, blame, reiterate, accuse— <br />Then the poet who was famous feels inclined to damn the muse— ..... <br /> <br />When he hears a sudden rapping—rapping at his chamber door, <br />Then he knows it's no good trying to write poems any more, <br />Then he bursts from out his chamber and he grabs his battered hat, <br />And he cadges Two Bob somewhere and gets beered up on his pat.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/untitled-868/
