Wearing a bowler hat and tweed apparel,
Or craving sustenance for your inside
Drawn either from the oven or the barrel;
Scarcely you figure in my eye
As liable, in Nature's course, to die.
And it was you who almost fell from grace,
Striking, like Lucifer, against authority,
Leaving your Heaven for another place
Not mentioned by your ten-to-one majority,
And doomed, to your surprise and pain,