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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529830" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tim Turpin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind,<br>And ne'er had seen the skies :<br>For Nature, when his head was made,<br>Forgot to dot his eyes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, like a Christmas pedagogue,<br>Poor Tim was forced to do -<br>Look out for pupils; for he had<br>A vacancy for two.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's some have specs to help their sight<br>Of objects dim and small : <br>But Tim had specks within his eyes, <br>And could not see at all. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Tim he wooed a servant maid, <br>And took her to his arms; <br>For he, like Pyramus, had cast <br>A wall-eye on her charms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By day she led him up and down. <br>Where'er he wished to jog,<br>A happy wife, altho' she led <br>The life of any dog.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But just when Tim had lived a month<br>In honey with his wife, <br>A surgeon ope'd his Milton eyes,<br>Like oysters, with a knife. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when his eyes were opened thus, <br>He wished them dark again : <br>For when he looked upon his wife, <br>He saw her very plain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her face was bad, her figure worse,<br>He couldn't bear to eat :<br>For she was anything but like <br>A grace before his meat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Tim he was a feeling man : <br>For when his sight was thick <br>It made him feel for everything -<br>But that was with a stick.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, with a cudgel in his hand <br>It was not light or slim -<br>He knocked at his wife's head until <br>It opened unto him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the corpse was stiff and cold,<br>He took his slaughtered spouse, <br>And laid her in a heap with all <br>The ashes of her house. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But like a wicked murderer,<br>He lived in constant fear <br>From day to day, and so he cut <br>His throat from ear to ear. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The neighbours fetched a doctor in :<br>Said he, &quot;'This wound I dread <br>Can hardly be sewed up -<br>his life Is hanging on a thread.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when another week was gone, <br>He gave him stronger hope -<br>Instead of hanging on a thread,<br>Of hanging on a rope. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah ! when he hid his bloody work <br>In ashes round about, <br>How little he supposed the truth <br>Would soon be sifted out. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when the parish dustman came,<br>His rubbish to withdraw,<br>He found more dust within the heap<br>Than he contracted for ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A dozen men to try the fact <br>Were sworn that very day ;<br>But though they all were jurors, yet<br>No conjurors were they. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said Tim unto those jurymen, <br>You need not waste your breath, <br>For I confess myself at once<br>The author of her death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, oh ! when I refect upon<br>The blood that I have spilt,<br>Just like a button is my soul, <br>Inscribed with double guilt ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then turning round his head again, <br>He saw before his eyes, <br>A great judge, and a little judge, <br>The judges of a-size ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The great judge took his judgment cap, <br>And put it on his head, <br>And sentenced Tim by law to hang <br>Till he was three times dead. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So he was tried, and he was hung<br>(Fit punishment for such) <br>On Horsham-drop, and none can say<br>It was a drop too much.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hood">Thomas Hood</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529830" data-title="Tim Turpin de Thomas Hood" data-description="Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind,
And ne'er had seen the skies :
For Nature, when his head was made,
Forgot to dot his eyes. 

So, like a Christmas pedagogue,
Poor Tim was forced to do -
Look out for pupils; for he had
A vacancy for two.

There's so..."></div>
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