 |
| Extended on the Margate shore |
| |
(A lazy fit had bound me), |
| I fell a-moralizing o'er |
| |
The snobs I saw around me. |
| They buy unholy suits of clothes, |
| |
And every day they don them, |
| Their speech is crapulous with oaths. |
| |
But still the sun shines on them'. |
| They bawl and holloa, scream and shout, |
| |
Some source of joy they find it — |
| And though they leave their "h's" out |
| |
The sea don't seem to mind it! |
| They spit, and smoke tobacco rank., |
| |
And live incontinently, |
| And though they look as if they drank — |
| |
The sea air fans them gently! |
| The words with which themselves they pledge |
| |
Cause decent ears to tingle; |
| But though it sets one's teeth on edge, |
| |
It don't offend the shingle! |
| Their showy clothes are slopped with mire, |
| |
Their paws with filth encrusted — |
| I wonder Nature don't retire |
| |
From public life disgusted. |
| The sun shines on, the breezes blow, |
| |
When shops and counters free them — |
| The waves dance gaily to and fro, |
| |
And seem quite glad to see them! |
| Oh, sun and breeze and dancing trees, |
| |
In one commingling blended, |
| You are not difficult to please — |
| |
Not easily offended. |
|
