The Hairdresser's Remonstrangce. (A Song of the Day.)

The Living age 1289, 13.2.1869

Sulphur and lead their splendour shed
On snowy craniums, old and hoary;
The mixture takes "a brace of shakes,"
And chignous gleam with borrowed glory.
Pooh! Poison? What's the harm in dyeing, dyeing, dyeing?

O, bark! If you scant chevlure
Be thin, and thinner, daily growing,
The stuff we sell is free from smell,
Both quantity and tint bestowing!
Pooh! let us hear the purple tints replying;
Pooh! Poison? It must answer, - dyeing, dyeing, dyeing!

Our shilling dye! O, come, apply
To all your heads the mixture clever;
Wash once the whole from crown to poll,
And you are beautiful for ever!
Pooh! Poison? Who set these wild echoes flying?
Pooh! Answer? It must asnwer, - dyeing, dyeing, dyeing!

- Anon.

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