Ay! where's my money? That's a puzzling query. It vanishes. Yet neither in my purse Nor pocket are there any holes. 'Tis very Incomprehensible. I don't disburse For superfluities. I wear plain clothes. I seldom buy jam tarts, preserves, or honey; And no one overlooks what debts he owes More steadily than I. Where is my money? I never tipple. Folks don't see me staggering, Sans cane and castor, in the public street. I sport no ornaments-not even a bague (ring). I have a notion that my own two feet Are much superior to a horse's four, So never call a jarvey. It is funny. The longer I investigate, the more Astoundedly I ask, Where is my money? My money, mind you! Other people's dollars Cohere together nobly. Only mine Cut one another. There's that pink of scholars Von Doppeldronk, he spends as much on wine As I on-every thing. Yet he seems rich, He laughs, and waxes plumper than a bunny, While I grow slim as a divining-switch, And search for gold as vainly. Where's my money? I can't complain that editors don't pay me; I get for every sheet One Pound Sixteen; And well I may! My articles are flamy Enough to blow up any Magazine. What's queerest in the affair though is, that at The same time I miss nothing but the one. He That watches me will find I don't lose hat, Gloves, fogle, stick, or cloak. 'Tis always money! Were I a rake I'd say so. Where one roysters Beyond the rules, of course his cash must go. 'Tis true I regularly sup on oysters, Cheese, brandy, and all that. But even so? What signifies a ducat of a night? "The barmaids," you may fancy. No. The sunny Loadstar that draws my tin is not the light From their eyes anyhow. Where then's my money? However, àpropos of eyes and maidens, I own I do make presents to the Sex- Books, watches, trinkets, music, too (not Haydn's), Combs, shawls, veils, bonnets-things that might perplex A man to count. But still I gain by what I lose in this way. 'Tis experience won-eh? I think so. My acquaintances think not. No matter. I grow tedious. Where's my money? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 44 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN AN OLD WOMAN: 1 by EDITH SITWELL |