When what I sought were stylish togs
A boutique met my eye;
It seemed a place for Dames, not dogs;
The autumn moon was high.

So down the stairs, with all my might,
To the subterranean shop;
And with each step, the light of night
Did wink, and sink—and drop.

I entered in the darkness dim,
No clothing did I note—
Until, by chance, a moonglow swim
Fell on a monstrous coat.

A coat of many colors, it
Spoke many styles as well;
And what sad creature it could fit—
Impossible to tell!

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a mind asea:
“O mercy!” to myself I cried,
“If that thing should be on me!”