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.