Cursed name of a dog! That’s just the thing, dear brother
in arms; I’ll learn Latin from you, then, and no other,
and when to boil a pretty egg, and dash a dray right over,
and keep the petty shopkeepers in a fine lather -
O I’ve stomach enough, but I can like your pluck
and join you in your stanchion soon enough.
If I’d grown up it’s dearth or gallows
since it’s amazing what the Church can swallow,
but as it is, ignored by priest and politician,
let’s lie together in the grave of all ambition,
and raise a protest with the paving-stones
a whistled song, a flag, a satire, and our brave bones:
dear mother Paris is dressed up like Augustus’ Rome
and père nor Pear won’t offer me a home
oh my word this is perfect and thus a thing of painful joy forever
assumesarcasm , if you’re around these days, LOOK LOOK.