From Smoke-room chat of apes who never think,
But cackle imitatively all round,
Till their speech hath an automatic sound.
Put the dread name of GL-DST-NE in the slot
SMELFUNGUS calls his mouth, and rabid rot
Will gurgle forth in a swift sewer-like gush
Of coarse abuse would make a bargee blush.
SMELFUNGUS is a soldier, and a swell,
But—the Gaboon can scarce surpass Pall-Mall
In vicious, gibbering vulgarity