Procrastination

The Incomparable Prince of Sheffield

In Westhamptonshire was I born and tutor’d,
Where oft I was to be found carousing with schoolmates.
My compatriots and I, hearts gay and relaxed,
Strove with each other in games of leaping, shooting, and the casting of stones.

While thus engaged, a band of ruffians, uncouth and ungentlemanly,
Approach’d with malevolent intent.
Though we subsequently exchanged the most cursory of fisticuffs,
My Headmistress was adamant that I relocate to Sheffield, home of my kin.

Resigned, I hail’d a carriage, and the first to approach
Had not the look of the more commonplace coach.
But in spite of that perhaps untoward impression of mine,
I bid the charioteer make all due haste toward Sheffield.

We arrived in the land of my ancestors in the late hours of dusk,
And I fared well to my pilot with a jest and a wink.
Lo! I deemed it then to be a fine and rich homestead
In which I was thenceforth to reside as the Incomparable Prince of Sheffield.