O’er the strange old birds with skinny wings,
Which the languid waiter to table brings,
With tottering steps that betoken, alas!
The chronic effects of sewer gas?”
“Not there, not there, my child.”
Is it far away in some region cold
Where the visitor’s welcome; if he have gold
That he’s willing to spend on most villainous wine
At the regally privileged “Bleed him fine?”
here the whole concern abounds in “sells”—