To King Headache

O, headache, King of torture thou,

     Has conquered me again;

Thy flaming sword doth smite my brow,

     Bescarring mind and brain.

My whirling head, now mammoth size,

     Suspends in middle air;

While lobsters. crabs and crocodiles

     Go rooting in my hair.

Ten millions of the devil’s imps

     Do revel on my pate;

While Satan’s orchestra of cats

     Upon my senses grate.

The fumes of Hades rise in clouds,

     Enveloping my form;

While batteries have formed in line,

     My weak defense to storm.

See how the devils mock and laugh!

     Hear countless reptiles hiss!

See how they hurl my shattered form

     Down, down in a wild abyss.

Ha! ha! Thou demon incarnate!

     But once I’ll thee defy;

To-night I’ll pass McNulty’s ranch,

     And keep my whistle dry.

Oct. 6, ‘93

Pub. in the

Boston Courier,

  March 25,

    1894