"The Very Latest Thing?" he said;
"Long have I sighed for something New!
O Roses Yellow, White and Red,
Let others sip; mine shall be Blue!
The Flavor was not Nice, 'tis true,
(He felt a Pain inside his Waist).
"It is not well to overdo,"
Said he, "a just-acquired taste."
The Shower passed; he joined in haste
His friends. With condescension great,
Said he, "I fear your time you waste;
Real Roses are quite out of date."
He argued early, argued late,
Till what was erst a Harmless Pose
Grew to a Fierce, Inordinate
Craving for Artificial Rose.
He haunted Garden Parties, Shows,
Wherever Ladies Congregate,
And in their Bonnets thrust his nose
His Craving Fierce to Satiate.
At last he chanced, sad to relate,
Into a Caterer's with his Pose,
And there Pneumonia was his Fate
From sitting on an Ice Cream Rose.
·······
O Reader, shun the Harmless Pose.
They buried him, with scant lament,
Beneath a Common Brier-Rose,
And wrote:
HERE LIES A DECADENT.