The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum