Collector folk are sinners all.

Our envoys plot _in partibus_.
They've small regard for chancel door,
Or Buddhist bolts contiguous
To lustrous jade or gold galore
Adorning idol squat or tall--
These be strange gods that we adore--
Collector folk are sinners all.

Of Romulus Augustulus
The signet ring I proudly wore.
Some rummaging _in ossibus_
I most repentantly deplore.
My taste has changed; I now explore
The sepulchres of Senegal
And seek the pots of Singapore--
Collector folk are sinners all.

Lord! Crave my neighbour's wife! What for?
I much prefer his crystal ball
From far Cathay. Then, Lord, ignore
Collector folk who're sinners all.




CAMPBELL COROT