A Boston man an ulster had,
An ulster with a cape that fluttered:
It smacked his face, and made him mad,
And polyglot remarks he uttered:
"I bought it at a bargain," said he,
"I'm tired of the thing already."

The wind that chanced to blow that day
Was easterly, and rather strong, too:
It loved to see the galling way
That clothes vex those whom they belong to:
"Now watch me," cried this spell of weather,
"I'll rid him of it altogether."

It whirled the man across the street,
It banged him up against a railing,
It twined the ulster round his feet,
But all of this was unavailing:
For not without resource it found him:
He drew the ulster closer round him.

"My word!" the man was heard to say,
"Although I like not such abuse, it's
Not strange the wind is strong to-day,
It always is in Massachusetts.
Such weather threatens much the health of
Inhabitants this Commonwealth of."

The sun, emerging from a rift