Nor yet a pampered artisan,
I am not spared, nay, I am hardest smitten,
Although 'tis held (and I agree)
That half the backbone of these Isles of Britain
Is made of stuff like me.
O brothers, ye who follow Art,
Shunning the crowds that strive and pant
Indifferent how you please the mart
So you may keep your souls extant,
Lloyd none the less is down upon your earnings,