Your eyes a cross-watch keep,
You're togged in shop-girl's fashion,
Your cloak is bugled deep,
Black-bugled broad and deep,
With buttons dappled o'er,
Good gr-racious! how it's grown, too—
That oil'd fringe flopped before!
That "bang" is awfully trying,
That odour maddens me.
By Jingo! you've been dyeing