For he knows well enough that they
May gibe, but dare not disobey!
Whether in dark, secluded walks
He flouts the schemes that bad men work us;
Or maiden ladies, screaming "Lawks!"
Hang on his neck in Oxford Circus;
His mien displays an abstract calm
That soothes the fractured nerves like balm.
Who spoors the burglar's nimble feet,
And spots the three-card man's devices?