THE LAST SPRAT.

I’ve nursed it all a sultry summer night This buffer ’twixt a rocky shore and me: I elbow through the crowd upon my right Of solvency. Life still holds some potentialities! I feel myself a unit amongst men! But know, should thirst prevail, there wilts and dies A citizen. The clink of glasses floats upon the air— Thirst’s fingers gripe me round the neck and choke— One beerward step: and then a voice, “Beware! Dead broke! Dead broke!” Shallows to windward, breakers on the lee, I weigh and weigh the question, cons and pros, Till (wracked by indecision’s pangs) I see The last pub close.