And decking a swine's snout with Style's choice jewels.
You'll see him—as a Teuton—trebly taxed,
Mooning 'midst metaphysical supposes;
Twirling a huge moustache, superbly waxed,
And taking pride in slitting comrades' noses.
You'll meet him—as a Muscovite—dead set
On making civic life a sombre Hades,
Shaking a knife with tyrant's blood red-wet,
Or—aping "Paris-goods" in art, dress, ladies.
You'll spy him—as a Yankee—gassing loud