And its wonderful Incarnate de Chine,
To hide where the wrinkle once has been,
And its Powders to frost the locks of hair
Which Sahara Wash has made more fair,
And its bright Eau d’Or to turn to gold
The locks that are bound in a massive fold
Above the forehead, deprived of crease
By the far-famed Crème de l’Impératrice,
And covered as though with a beauteous calm,
By the secret power of the Bagdad Balm;