Part 1 — ODE TO A LADY IN WHITE STOCKINGS
Reading edition
Lady, in your stockings white, As you flutter by the road, You inspire me to write An ode. Though upon my manly back There reposes half a ton, Why repine against a pack Or gun? Though the fire-tressed orb Makes mirage upon the street; Though the baking soil absorb My feet; Though the Sergeants stamp and rave; Though the Captain's eye is flame; Pray, how should my heart behave— The same? I become a thing of steel, Buoyant none the less as cork; Radiant from hat to heel I walk. Lady, in your stockings white, Don't you note my altered step? Don't you feel, enchanting sprite, My pep?