V
TO THE BARBER
Prince of the parlour tonsorial,
Knight of the razor and shears,
Who have from time immemorial
Snipped it too short round the ears—
You with your long academical
Causes for "thinning on top,"
Selling me gallons of chemical
Tonic, a brush, and a strop;
You with your sad comicality,
You with your bum badinage—
Confound your congeniality!
Confound your "Facial Massage?"
Still, though you shave contragrainious,[Footnote: Well, there ought to be.]
Healing the cut with a lime,
Don't I, quite nice and spontaneous,
Daily contribute a dime?
Mountain of foreign servility,
Butcher of chin and of lip.
Maugre your marked inability,
Do I not fall for the tip?
Hope you at Christmas for currency,
Fiend of tonsorial tricks?
Never was greater aberrancy—
Coarsely I say to you, "Nix!"