Once in his shop a workman wrought, With languid hand and listless thought, When through the open window’s space, Behold! a camel thrust his face: “My nose is cold,” he meekly cried; “Oh, let me warm it by thy side!” Since no denial word was said, In came the nose, in came the head; As sure as sermon follows text, The long and scraggy neck came next; And then, as falls the threatening storm, In leaped the whole ungainly form. Aghast the owner gazed around, And on the rude invader frowned, Convinced, as closer still he pressed, There was no room for such a guest; Yet more astonished heard him say, “If thou art troubled, go away, For in this place I choose to stay.” —Lydia Huntley Sigourney. |