Joseph Skipsey

What Else

‘YOU little like the sonnet?  You?
   But what are you? a creaking wicket;
A cricket in the grass, allow
   Me, slut! to say a very cricket!—
 
’A chatter-box, or at the best’—
   ‘A win-chat,’ add, and end the matter!’
‘Not so, slut Muse!—You’re tongue’s a pest,
   And’-'La, what can it do but chatter?’
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