Finding A Sock On An Autumn Evening

Whose sock this is I do not know; 

I found it in my dresser though. 

I’ll say I thought it very queer, 

This garment of somebody’s toes. 

I had a feeling, quite like fear  

When it did suddenly appear; 

I must confess, I did quite shake, 

And yet, I did not shed a tear. 

One sock does not a good pair make, 

So I must ask someone to take 

This sock; for it I will not keep, 

It coming to me by mistake. 

The night is cold and dark, and deep, 

So I’ll go, woolen socks to seek, 

And pairs to match before I sleep, 

And pairs to match before I sleep.