With the heathen Esquimaux,
To batten on filth and oil,
If Christians should live on so!
Dirt! Dirt! Dirt!
On ceiling wainscot and floor,
And dirt, dirt, dirt
On sidepost, lintel and door.
Stench, and fever, and death,
Where huddle the young and old,
Where the beggars brat is rocked to sleep