Tim Turpin
Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind,
And ne'er had seen the skies :
For Nature, when his head was made,
Forgot to dot his eyes.
So, like a Christmas pedagogue,
Poor Tim was forced to do -
Look out for pupils; for he had
A vacancy for two.
There's some have specs to help their sight
Of objects dim and small :
But Tim had specks within his eyes,
And could not see at all.
Now Tim he wooed a servant maid,
And took her to his arms;
For he, like Pyramus, had cast
A wall-eye on her charms.
By day she led him up and down.
Where'er he wished to jog,
A happy wife, altho' she led
The life of any dog.
But just when Tim had lived a month
In honey with his wife,
A surgeon ope'd his Milton eyes,
Like oysters, with a knife.
But when his eyes were opened thus,
He wished them dark again :
For when he looked upon his wife,
He saw her very plain.
Her face was bad, her figure worse,
He couldn't bear to eat :
For she was anything but like
A grace before his meat.
Now Tim he was a feeling man :
For when his sight was thick
It made him feel for everything -
But that was with a stick.
So, with a cudgel in his hand
It was not light or slim -
He knocked at his wife's head until
It opened unto him.
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poem by Thomas Hood
Added by Poetry Lover
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