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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429765" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Nabob</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(To the memory of William Hickey, Esq.)<br>COMING out of India with ten thousand a year <br>Exchanged for flesh and temper, a dry Faust <br>Whose devil barters with digestion, has he paid dear <br>For dipping his fingers in the Roc's valley? <br>Who knows? It's certain that he owns a rage, <br>A face like shark-skin, full of Yellow Jack, <br>And that unreckoning tyranny of age <br>That calls for turtles' eggs in Twickenham. <br>Sometimes, by moonlight, in a barge he'll float <br>Whilst hirelings blow their skulking flageolets, <br>Served by a Rajah in a golden coat <br>With pigeon-pie . . . Madeira . . . and Madeira . . . <br>Or in his Bon de Paris with silver frogs <br>He rolls puff-bellied in an equipage, <br>Elegant chariot, through a gulf of fogs <br>To dine on dolphin-steak with Post-Captains. <br>Who knows? There are worse things than steak, perhaps, <br>Worse things than oyster-sauces and tureens <br>And worlds of provender like painted maps <br>Pricked out with ports of claret and pitchcocked eels, <br>And hubbubs of billiard-matches, burnt champagne, <br>Beautiful ladies 'of the establishment' <br>Always in tempers, or melting out again, <br>Bailiffs and Burgundy and writs of judgment— <br>Thus to inhabit huge, lugubrious halls <br>Damp with the steam of entrees, glazed with smoke, <br>Raw drinking, greasy eating, bussing and brawls, <br>Drinking and eating and bursting into bed-chambers. <br>But, in the end, one says farewell to them; <br>And if he'd curse to-day—God damn your blood!— <br>Even his curses I'd not altogether condemn, <br>Not altogether scorn; and if phantoms ate— <br>Hickey, I'd say, sit down, pull up, set to: <br>Here's knife and fork, there's wine, and there's a barmaid. <br>Let us submerge ourselves in onion-soup, <br>Anything but this 'damned profession of writing'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Kenneth+Slessor">Kenneth Slessor</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429765" data-title="The Nabob de Kenneth Slessor" data-description="(To the memory of William Hickey, Esq.)
COMING out of India with ten thousand a year 
Exchanged for flesh and temper, a dry Faust 
Whose devil barters with digestion, has he paid dear 
For dipping his fingers in the Roc's valley? 
Who knows? It's ..."></div>
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