I. So, friend, your shop was all your house! Its front, astonishing the street, Invited view from man and mouse To what diversity of treat Behind its glass—the single sheet! II. What gimcracks, genuine Japanese: Gape-jaw and goggle-eye, the frog; Dragons, owls, monkeys, beetles, geese; Some crush-nosed human-hearted dog: Queer names, too, such a catalogue! III. I thought “And he who owns the wealth “Which blocks the window’s vastitude, “—Ah, could I peep at him by stealth “Behind his ware, pass shop, intrude “On house itself, what scenes were viewed! IV. “If wide and showy thus the shop, “What must the habitation prove? “The true house with no name a-top— “The mansion, distant one remove, “Once get him off his traffic groove! V. “Pictures he likes, or books perhaps; “And as for buying most and best, “Commend me to these city chaps. “Or else he’s social, takes his rest “On Sundays, with a Lord for guest. VI. “Some suburb-palace, parked about “And gated grandly, built last year: “The four-mile walk to keep off gout; “Or big seat sold by bankrupt peer: “But then he takes the rail, that’s clear. VII. “Or, stop! I wager, taste selects “Some out o’ the way, some all-unknown “Retreat: the neighbourhood suspects “Little that he who rambles lone “Makes Rothschild tremble on his throne!” VIII. Nowise! Nor Mayfair residence Fit to receive and entertain,— Nor Hampstead villa’s kind defence From noise and crowd, from dust and drain,— Nor country-box was soul’s domain! IX. Nowise! At back of all that spread Of merchandize, woe’s me, I find A hole i’ the wall where, heels by head, The owner couched, his ware behind, —In cupboard suited to his mind. X. For, why? He saw no use of life But, while he drove a roaring trade, To chuckle “Customers are rife!” To chafe “So much hard cash outlaid “Yet zero in my profits made! XI. “This novelty costs pains, but—takes? “Cumbers my counter! Stock no more! “This article, no such great shakes, “Fizzes like wild fire? Underscore “The cheap thing—thousands to the fore!” XII. ’Twas lodging best to live most nigh (Cramp, coffinlike as crib might be) Receipt of Custom; ear and eye Wanted no outworld: “Hear and see “The bustle in the shop!” quoth he. XIII. My fancy of a merchant-prince Was different. Through his wares we groped Our darkling way to—not to mince The matter—no black den where moped The master if we interloped! XIV. Shop was shop only: household-stuff? What did he want with comforts there? “Walls, ceiling, floor, stay blank and rough, “So goods on sale show rich and rare! “_Sell and scud home_,” be shop’s affair!