Borrowed Robes

THERE'S Binks, he is wearing the "mantle of Scott,"—His publishers so advertise.I really can't say if it's truthful or not,I haven't had time to get wise.I fancy, however, it isn't quite so,Tho' Binksy is walking on stilts.For Scott never sported a mantle, altho'He frequently went out in kilts.

And Tompkins—a poet of passion—they sayIs wearing the "shoes of John Keats."I rather believe it is true from the playOf Tompkins's rhythmical feats.I've noticed they move with a horrible limpAs though he'd a cork-legged muse.His gait has a very unmetrical crimpFrom wearing another man's shoes.

There's others who're wearing the left-over dudsOf Byron and Shelley and Lamb.I dare say there's some one who's wearing the studsOf old Mr. Omar Khayyam.The collar of Dickens is one fellow's lot;Another's the rubbers of Poe:And G. Harding Wiggles is said to have gotThe pot-hat of Daniel Defoe.

For me I care not for illustrious gowns.I want no one's mantle in mine.A second-hand garment will fill me with frowns—Such offers I'll ever decline;And if it so happens I take to the pen,Like certain mechanics I've known,I hope at the last, when I come to "say when,"They'll find that my clothes were my own.