To an Aspirant

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To an Aspirant

What! you a Senator?⁠—you, Mike de Young?

Still reeking of the gutter whence you sprung?

Sir, if all Senators were such as you⁠—

Their hands so slender and so crimson too

(Shaped to the pocket for commercial work,

For literary, fitted to the dirk)⁠—

So black their hearts, so lily-white their livers⁠—

The toga’s touch would give a man the shivers!