His complacent, uncomely, strong,
Hers soft appetence sharpened with spleen.
Her eyes scale-glitter, his oyster-dim,
His huge mouth hardened, her small lips curled
As he gazed at her and she glanced at him;
He looked the Church, and she seemed the World.
"A holy spouter from Exeter Hall!"
(So she mused as she sipped her wine.)
"A butterfly in the Belial thrall
Of Vanity Fair, all tinkle and shine!"