I Success

He does not dress as other men, His ‘kish’ is loud and gay, His ‘side’ is as the ‘side’ of ten Because his ‘barnes’ are grey.

His head has swollen to a size Beyond the proper size for heads, He metaphorically buys The ground on which he treads.

Before his face of haughty grace The ordinary mortal cowers: A ‘forty-cap’ has put the chap Into another world from ours.

The funny little world that lies ’Twixt High Street and the Mound Is just a swarm of buzzing flies That aimlessly go round:

If one is stronger in the limb Or better able to work hard, It’s quite amusing to watch him Ascending heavenward.

But if one cannot work or play (Who loves the better part too well), It’s really sad to see the lad Retained compulsorily in hell.