The Princeton Union

THE AWFUL BORE

Again I hear that creaking step!
He's rapping at the door,
Too well I know the boding sound
That ushers in a bore.

He reads my daily papers through
Before I've seen a word;
He scans the lyric (that I wrote)
And thinks it quite absurd.

He calmly smokes my last cigar
And coolly asks for more,
He opens everything he sees
Except the entry door!

He talks about his fragile health
And tells me of the pains
He suffers from a score of ills
Of which he ne'er complains;

And how he struggled once with death
To keep the fiend at bay.
On themes like these away he goes,
But never goes-away.

I mean to take the knocker off,
Put crape upon the door.
Or hint to John that I am gone
To stay a month or more.

I do not tremble when I meet
The stoutest of my foes,
But heaven defend me from the friend
Who never-never goes!