In six small months—not more."
Maybe the mystic art appals
Unlearned souls of low degrees,
But men to whom the high Muse calls,
Men who are good enough for Smalls,
Imbibe it all with ease;
While where would Jones, I wonder, be
If someone took the man for me
And asked him for some jeu d'esprit,
A few bright lines (like these)?