And bully-beef tins,
Tin upon tin,
Old boots, and bottles that hold no more
Their richness in them.
And I——
We might do a good deal more of this descriptive business, bringing in something about dead bodies, mud of course being full of dead bodies. But we had better get on. We strike now the personal note:—
And I,
I too am no more than a bottle,
An empty bottle,
Heaving helpless on the mud of life,