XX—oh lor!
In happy homes he saw them grub
On stout, and oysters from a tub,—
The dismal gas-light gleamed without,
And from his lips escaped a shout,
"XX—oh lor!"
"Young man," the Sage observ'd, "just stay,
And let me dip my beak, I say,
The pewter is deep, and I am dry!"
"Perceiv'st thou verdure in my eye?