He says, "I see you've got some greens for dinner,
"And pickled pork," but can't say more for coughing;
That smoke just serves him right—the prying sinner!
He's always jeering folks, and at them scoffing:
White cliffs, and houses, underneath and over,
And roads that seem to lead to regions airy—
Old boats converted into roofs, that cover
Buildings, in shape and size that greatly vary,
Denote the place, which popular believings
Point out as being made of ends and leavings.