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.