Sauterne and quinine, saccharine and gall,
And try to please than both when death were fitter,
And never have my true desire at all!
So chained we sit—until I leave the human—
And I shall praise old Skullface, if he can
But rid me of that smooth and comely woman,
And the small, laughing, devil-twisted man!
OPERATION
(For J. F. C. Jr.)
Bound to the polished table, arm and leg,