The dice
were rolled
And your
mother's number came up,
O
Pussycat,
Which
might explain her absence
These two
days past.
But what's
this?
Here she
cometh,
Lively and
looking well,
Suggesting
that this bit of verse,
Begun some
ten lines back,
Might have
neither substance nor stamina
To hold
its course
Or even
one line more last, Jack.
