The title has become equivocal, since there are more green shades in employment now than were dreamed of by Andrew Marvell. Science is a great maker of homophones, without respect for the poets. There is, for instance, the demilune of lined buckram borne by the weak-eyed on their foreheads, the phylactery of the have been I lay myself open to be believed a cripple, or to look an old fool. A vivacious reviewer in Punch's Booking Office will have a vision of me as a babbling elder peering at society from below a green pent. However I must risk it. It says exactly what I mean; and what I have written I have written. You know the story, how she fell in love with a false priest, and rued it ever mair? The priest followed her but and gave her no peace. They took horses and money and rode out together Until they came to a rank river, Was raging like the sea. There the priest declared his purpose.