The Height of the Ridiculous

I wrote some lines once on a time

     In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say

They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,

I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,

A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;

How kind it was of him
To mind a slender man like me,

He of the mighty limb.

"These to the printer," I exclaimed,
     And, in my humorous way,
I added, (as a trifling jest,)
    "There'll be the devil to pay."

He took the paper, and I watched,

And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face

Was all upon the grin.

He read the next; the grin grew broad,

And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise

I now began to hear.

The fourth; he broke into a roar;

The fifth; his waistband split;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off,

And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,
    I watched that wretched man,

And since, I never dare to write
    As funny as I can.