The Song of Quoodle

The Song of QuoodleThey haven't got no noses,The fallen sons of Eve;Even the smell of rosesIs not what they supposes;But more than mind disclosesAnd more than men believe.They haven't got no noses,They cannot even tellWhen door and darkness closesThe park a Jew encloses,Where even the law of MosesWill let you steal a smell.The brilliant smell of water,The brave smell of a stone,The smell of dew