I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;my overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky,
Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh dear me! what marvellous lovesI dreamed of!
My only pair of breecheshad a big hole in them. --Stargazing Tom Thumb,
I sowed my rhymes along the way.
My tavern was at the Sign of the Great Bear.-- My stars in the sky rustled softly.
And I listened to them, sitting on the road-sideson those pleasant September eveningswhile I felt drops of dew on my foreheadlike vigorous wine; and while,rhyming among the fantastical shadows,
I plucked the strings of a lyrethe elastics of my tattered boots,one foot close to my heart!
