Time was when I gaily would wash myself daily;
My body with soapsuds I polished;
Each morning I plotted to issue unspotted
From baths (that have since been abolished).
But though I might lather and scrub with a will, I
Could never elude those confounded bacilli!

Time was when each casement, from attic to basement,
Stood open all night to the breezes;
My molars might chatter, but what did that matter,
Thought I, if I staved off diseases?
A practice so rigorous merely unstrung me,
And germs floated in at the window, and stung me!

Time was when I nightly would bicycle brightly
Round Battersea Park, in a “sweater”;
I felt that such vigour would strengthen my figure,
And render my appetite better.
Alas! 'neath my cycling costume (call'd a “bikerobe”)
I still was a prey to each virulent microbe!

The scientist's scathing indictment of bathing
Has altered my methods completely.
I've given up coping with windows, or soaping;
My sponges are packed away neatly.
My bicycle's sold, and I can't understand how
I ever attempted to emulate Sandow!

Unkempt and a sloven, in rooms like an oven,
I lead a most healthy existence;
My stout epidermis so horny and firm is,
Bacilli are kept at a distance.
No germ in my armour discovers a juncture;
My body no microbe is able to puncture!