Page:The eighth sin (IA eighthsin00morlrich).pdf/55



He drank the wine of life by sips,
 * He roundly ate and soundly slept,

His spirits suffered no eclipse,
 * But Lord! how sore he would have wept

To see his private linen bleach
 * And flutter in the public view . ..

Well, kisses are a shilling each,
 * Let us adventure on a few!

O Ballad-monger, I beseech,
 * Consider his advice anew

When kisses are a shilling each
 * Why not adventure on a few?