Brown was my friend, and faithful—but so fat! <br />He came to see me in the twilight dim; <br />I rose politely and invited him <br />To take a seat—how heavily he sat! <br /> <br />He sat upon the sofa, where my hat, <br />My wanton Zephyr, rested on its rim; <br />Its build, unlike my friend's, was rather slim, <br />And when he rose, I saw it, crushed and flat. <br /> <br />O Hat, that wast the apple of my eye, <br />Thy brim is bent, six cracks are in thy crown, <br />And I shall never wear thee any more; <br />Upon a shelf thy loved remains shall lie, <br />And with the years the dust will settle down <br />On thee, the neatest hat I ever wore!<br /><br />Robert Fuller Murray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-a-crushed-hat/
