There is nought to suggest that he comes as a guest
From regions torrid and drouthy,
He has altered his ways since the simpler days
Of Coleridge and Southey.
A jacket of red and breeches of blue
He knows would be far too striking,
And as for a tail!—even Darwin’s crew
Would hold that in sore misliking.
He sees a spectral scare-crow thing
Slink into a slum-fouled alley,