When one with t'other straightaway agrees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?