The Lake Isle


O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop,
With the little bright boxes
Piled up neatly upon the shelves
And the loose fragment cavendish
And the shag,
And the bright Virginia
Loose under the bright glass cases,
And a pair of scales
Not too greasy,
And the votailles dropping in for a word or two in passing,
For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit.

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Lend me a little tobacco-shop,
Or install me in any profession
Save this damn’d profession of writing,
Where one needs one’s brains all the time.


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The Lake Isle