However, terrible as it may seem to the tall maiden sisters of J.P.'s in Queen Anne houses with walled vegetable gardens, this courtesan, strumpet, harlot, whore, punk, fille de joie, street-walker, this trollop, this trull, this baggage, this hussy, this drab, skit, rig, quean, mopsy, demirep, demimondaine, this wanton, this fornicatress, this doxy, this concubine, this frail sister, this poor Queenie--did actually solicit me, did actually say 'coming home to-night, dearie' and my soul was not blasted enough to call a policeman.

(See Guardian, 1/4/10, for Dean Baker's debunking of the piece's Petersonian economics.)

Bare then the mer-wolf, / when to the bottom she came, / The ringed Prince / to her own place, / So that he might not, / for all his proud mind, / Wield his weapons; / for such wondrous things / Swinked him in the sound, / sea-deer many / With worrying tusks / his war-sark tare, / Chased him the creatures.

I think that wellingtons are a little de trop for a light shower.