Volume 158 — CLOTHES AND THE POET.

I do not ask for silk attire, For purple, no, nor puce; The only wear that I require Is something plain and loose, A quiet set of reach-me-downs for serviceable use. For these, which I must have because The honour of the Press Compels me, by unwritten laws, To clothe my nakedness, Four guineas is my limit—more or (preferably) less. Let others go in Harris tweeds, Men of the leisured sort; Mine are the modest, homely needs That with my state comport; I am a simple labouring man whose work is all his sport. I covet not the gear of those Who neither toil nor spin; I merely want some standard clo's To drape my standard skin, Wrought of material suitable for writing verses in. Something that won't pick up the dust When rhymes refuse to flow; And roomy, lest the seams be bust Should the afflatus blow— Say five-and-forty round the ribs and rather more below. For poets they should stock a brand To serve each type's behest— Pastoral, epic, lyric—and An outer size of chest For those whose puffy job it is to build the arduous jest. O.S.