The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
And let you off from your opinions glum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum