Notes |
Text: Vain, vapid youth, who, with cigar, / Upon the promenade a star / Of manhood would’st appear, / Think’st thou we know
not what befalls, / When thou dost make such sudden calls / To by-ways dark and drear? / There, desperate qualms thy frame
dismay / And tribute thou to earth dost pay / As Neptune oft receives, / When pale land-lubbers, reeling sick / Bestrews the
waves with filth as thick / As “Valambrosa’s leaves.”
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