To an Aspirant

What! you a Senator?⁠—you, Mike de Young?
Still reeking of the gutter whence you sprung?
Sir, if all Senators were such as you⁠—
Their hands so slender and so crimson too
(Shaped to the pocket for commercial work,
For literary, fitted to the dirk)⁠—
So black their hearts, so lily-white their livers⁠—
The toga’s touch would give a man the shivers!