To show thy deep concern about my arse
Thou gav’st me, my dear friend, my witty donnot,
A precious gift — a chamber China vase
With a slit-eyed dark lady painted on it.
Didst thou foreknow the dun un-British beauty
Would fascinate my senses? Thou wert right.
I cut the picture out and, as a booty,
Hung it upon the wall to please my sight.
Now, if I be a sailor and the bark
I sit on sail and err on shoreless seas,
Her image is a lighthouse in the dark
Filling my mind with streams of fantasies.
Thus with pure thoughts and love my soul she fill’th,
While through the vessel’s hole leak slimy filth.
