I’d been cheered up at my Chandoo[4] shop, for years at least two score,
To perform my daily labour, and was never sick or sore;
But they said this must not be;
So they passed a stern decree,
And they made my Chandoo seller shut his hospitable door.
Now they’re sending out Commissions with the philanthropic view
Of inducing us to part with sev’ral crores of revenue;
For all opium traffic’s sin,
And, although it brings in tin,
Our nefarious trade papaverous, they say we must eschew.