To-morrow is the time I get my pay —My uncle’s sword is hanging in the hall —I see a little cloud all pink and grey —Perhaps the rector’s mother will not call —I fancy that I heard from Mr. GallThat mushrooms could be cooked another way —I never read the works of Juvenal —I think I will not hang myself to-day.The world will have another washing day;The decadents decay; the pedants pall;And H. G. Wells has found that children play,And Bernard Shaw discovered that they squall;Rationalists are growing rational —And through thick woods one finds a stream astray,So secret that the very sky seems small —I think I will not hang myself to-day.