Prelude

 Because the rhymes I make for raiment
Fail to avail its meed of payment,
I fain must make my well-worn tweeds
Suffice me for tomorrow's needs--
Until my verse the public reads.


I used to go to Savile Row,
But now their prices are so high,
With royalties at all time low,
Because my books few want to buy .
 .
 .

No, I don't blame them, but that's why.


Well, anyway I'd rather fare
In tattered rags and ring my chimes
Than strut around in wealthy wear.

--So in these tough and trying times
Let me flaunt like defiant flags
The jubilation of my RAGS.

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