'My son,' the stranger thus began, br And drew me to the window side, br 'Now here are beauties better than br You ever have dreamed, or ever can. br But yet beware!' he cried. br br br A tidy citizen was he br Although a dismal daffy one. br 'See this one pose and pout for me br And march around magnificently. br But I'm immune, my son. br br br 'Observe how ripe the lady's lips, br How Titianesque the mop of hair, br And where the great white shoulder dips br Beneath its gauzy half-eclipse, br You well may stare and stare. br br br 'When I was young I said as you br Are saying in your sapphic youth, br br br That ah! such lips were certain cue, br And look! her bosom's rhythm too, br It signified her truth; br br br 'Her broad brow meant intelligence br And something better than a bone, br Her body's curves were spirit's tents, br Her fresh young skin was innocence br Instead of meat that shone. br br br 'I wish the moralists would thresh br (Indeed the thing is very droll) br God's oldest joke, forever fresh: br The fact that in the finest flesh br There isn't any soul.