And from the increment that flows
(With blood and tears) from your poetic yearnings
You pay him through the nose.
These very lines, in which I couch
My plaint of him and all his works—
Even from these he means to pouch,
Roughly, his six per cent. of perks;
This thought has left me singularly moody;
I fail to join in George's joke;
So strongly I resent the extra 2d.