BALLADE OF WHIST
You play with a full pack,
And deal them one by one ;
You lead the Ace with Queen and Jack
(As you have rightly done) ;
But lo! a spot upon your sun,
A worm in your pea-pod—
I trump you, when you have begun
To reckon on the odd.
With what a mighty smack
Your King of Trumps is won!
Your partner’s face grows very black ;
He doesn’t think it fun.
A Yankee would have used a gun,
A schoolmaster a rod—
A ten ace may be led of none
Who reckon on the odd.
And now, amid the wrack
Of your position,
Their old established suit comes back,
With an unfettered run ;