MRS. MACQUEEN
(or the lollie-shop)
WITH glass like a bull's eye,
And shutters of green,
Down on the cobbles
Lives Mrs. MacQueen.
At six she rises;
At nine you see
Her candle shine out
In the linden tree:
And at half-past nine
Not a sound is nigh,
But the bright moon creeping
Across the sky;
Or a far dog baying;
Or a twittering bird
In its drowsy nest,
In the darkness stirred;
Or like the roar
Of a distant sea
A long-drawn S-s-sh!
In the linden tree.
159
