“It’s a terrible, dissolute, profligate sink;
It makes me laugh, and I wink as I think
Of British Christianity.”
But the London Sunday tickled him most,
And he stroked his tail with glee;
“Shut up all innocent recreation,
And open your gin-shops, Pecksniffian nation—
And so pay homage to ME.
Looking in at a meeting of Brewers and Bungs,
He said, amidst deafening cheers,