Too fierce at wrong,

53

 To patronize the dull,

 Or praise the strong.

 And yet he has a soul

 Of wrath, though pent

 Even when that white ghoul

 Comes for his rent.

 The landlord? Hush! My God!

 I think the walls

 Take notes to help him prod

 Us up. He galls

 My very soul to strife,

 With his death’s-head face.

 He is foul too in his life,

 Some hid disgrace,

 Some secret thing he does,

 I warrant you,

 For all his cheek to us

 Is shaved so blue.

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