We fitted out—my Muse and I together—
And launched adown the galley-slips of Chatto
A barque of verse, full-rigged for halcyon weather,
Which many a critic judged to take the gâteau:
(Though some there were, high pundits of disparity,
Who wept at our unscholarly vulgarity).
We have sailed far since then; crossed our horizon;
Published our loves and travels in a novel
(A tale, men say, that Peckham’s flapper cries on,
So that both Boots and Smith’s before us grovel);