 | May Fair |  |
Now comes the hour of English talk,
When no man will his subject balk.
“Return'd from Greece?”—The Capitani
Laughed at them, zany after zany;
In vain our patriots raved and rambled,
In dunghills sank—through thistles scrambled!
Ate cats,—in classic sludge bivouack'd,
Drank ditches,—baretailed rode bareback'd.
At sight or shadow of a Turk,
Felt as if swallowing his dirk!
Were flea-bit, dexter and sinister,
Till the whole patriot was a blister;
Were stript, and whipt, and sconced, and starved;
Too happy to escape uncarved!”
When no man will his subject balk.
88
Laughed at them, zany after zany;
In vain our patriots raved and rambled,
In dunghills sank—through thistles scrambled!
Ate cats,—in classic sludge bivouack'd,
Drank ditches,—baretailed rode bareback'd.
At sight or shadow of a Turk,
Felt as if swallowing his dirk!
Were flea-bit, dexter and sinister,
Till the whole patriot was a blister;
Were stript, and whipt, and sconced, and starved;
Too happy to escape uncarved!”
| May Fair | |