VII.
Boom! Boom! 'Twill bring in cent. per cent.,
With that Big Drum, Advertisement.
Nonsense, with nous discreetly blent,
Finds the world cheated—and content.
But "make your game" while yet there's room,
For novel shapes of quackery. Doom
Awaits us in the outer gloom:
A day may come when Bosh won't "Boom"!
Chorus.