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nicely capped. A broken-legged man and a broken-legged horse! They'll get me, of course. The cursed coach will reach the town And they'll all come out, every loafer grown A lion to handcuff a man that's down. What's that? Oh, the coachman's bulleted hat! I'll give it a head to fit it pat. Thank you! No cravat. _They handcuffed the body just for style, And they hung him in chains for the volatile Wind to scour him flesh from bones. Way out on the moor you can hear the groans His gibbet makes when it blows a gale. 'Tis a common tale._ The Shadow Paul Jannes was working very late, For this watch must be done by eight To-morrow or the Cardinal Would certainly be vexed. Of all His customers the old prelate Was the most important, for his state Descended to his watches and rings, And he gave his mistresses many things To make them forget his age and smile When he paid visits, and they could while The time away with a diamond locket Exceedingly well. So they picked his pocket, And he paid in jewels for his slobbering kisses. This watch was made to buy him blisses From an Austrian countess on her way Home, and she meant to start next day. Paul worked by the pointed, tulip-flame Of a tallow candle, and became So absorbed, that his old clock made him wince Striking the hour a moment since. Its echo, only half apprehended, Lingered about the room. He ended Screwing the little rubies in, Setting the wheels to lock and spin, Curling the infinitesimal springs, Fixing the filigree hands. Chippings Of precious stones lay strewn about. The table before him was a rout Of splashes and sparks of coloured light. There was yellow gold in sheets, and quite A heap of emeralds, and steel. Here was a gem, there was a wheel. And glasses lay like limpid lakes Shining and still, and there were flakes Of silver, and shavings of pearl, And little wires all awhirl With the light of the candle. He took the watch And wound its hands about to match The time, then glanced up to take the hour From the hanging clock. Good, Merciful Power! How came that shadow on the wall, No woman was in the room! His tall Chiffonier stood gaunt behind His chair. His old cloak, rabbit-lined, Hung from a p
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