A fust-rate Gawd who dropt, d’ye see, the ‘h’ in Heaven and Hell!...
“Oh I was a real Phenomenon,” continued Kiplingson,
“The only genius ever born who was Tory at twenty-one!”
“Alas! and alas!” the good Saint said, a tear in his eye serene,
“A Tory at twenty-one! Good God! At fifty what would you have been?
”There’s not a spirit now here in Heaven who wouldn’t at twenty-one
Have tried to upset the very Throne, and reform both Sire and Son!
“The saddest sight my eyes have seen, down yonder on earth or here,
Is a brat that talks like a weary man, or a youth with a cynic’s leer.
”Try lower down, young man,“ he cried, and began to close the Gate—