---

James Whitcomb Riley - A Lounger
Work rating: Low

He leant against a lamp-post, lost
  In some mysterious reverie:
  His head was bowed; his arms were crossed;
  He yawned, and glanced evasively:
  Uncrossed his arms, and slowly put
  Them back again, and scratched his side--
  Shifted his weight from foot to foot,
  And gazed out no-ward, idle-eyed.

  Grotesque of form and face and dress,
  And picturesque in every way--
  A figure that from day to day
  Drooped with a limper laziness;
  A figure such as artists lean,
  In pictures where distress is seen,
  Against low hovels where we guess
  No happiness has ever been.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.