CLOTHES AND THE POET.
["The public will welcome an announcement that the standard clothing scheme may be revived on a voluntary basis."—The Times.]
I do not ask for silk attire,
For purple, no, nor puce;
The only wear that I require
Is something plain and loose,
A quiet set of reach-me-downs for serviceable use.
For these, which I must have because
The honour of the Press
Compels me, by unwritten laws,
To clothe my nakedness,
Four guineas is my limit—more or (preferably) less.
Let others go in Harris tweeds,
Men of the leisured sort;
Mine are the modest, homely needs
That with my state comport;
I am a simple labouring man whose work is all his sport.
I covet not the gear of those
Who neither toil nor spin;
I merely want some standard clo's
To drape my standard skin,
Wrought of material suitable for writing verses in.
Something that won't pick up the dust
When rhymes refuse to flow;
And roomy, lest the seams be bust
Should the afflatus blow—
Say five-and-forty round the ribs and rather more below.
For poets they should stock a brand
To serve each type's behest—
Pastoral, epic, lyric—and
An outer size of chest
For those whose puffy job it is to build the arduous jest.
O.S.