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55
FOR THE PRESENT OCCASION
September 9—13, 1908
Oh! The Pope o' Rome and the Pope o' Rome,
Ha! Ha! cried he, for Old England!
My faithful Legate, a word i' your ear—
Draw nigh, and I'll whisper, lest anyone hear;
Now, I want ye to go a few days from home
On a jaunt—and it's over The Water!
Ha! Ha! cried he, for Old England!
My faithful Legate, a word i' your ear—
Draw nigh, and I'll whisper, lest anyone hear;
Now, I want ye to go a few days from home
On a jaunt—and it's over The Water!
A good while since, and I ruled, you know,—
Ha! Ha! I ruled in Old England!
Fine times were they, when I had their Pence—
The amount flowing in was indeed immense—
For my will was law over high and low
In that charming Land, my Daughter.
Ha! Ha! I ruled in Old England!
Fine times were they, when I had their Pence—
The amount flowing in was indeed immense—
For my will was law over high and low
In that charming Land, my Daughter.
But alas! and alas! things went quite wrong,
And my day was up in Old England.
Fancy! The insolent Islanders said,
“Enough of this Foreigner posing as head
“Of our souls and bodies—we've stood it too long!”—
And they kicked me over The Water!
And my day was up in Old England.
Fancy! The insolent Islanders said,
“Enough of this Foreigner posing as head
“Of our souls and bodies—we've stood it too long!”—
And they kicked me over The Water!
But I've kept an eye on 'em ever since—
So dear to my heart was Old England.
And I think—I do really—the time is come,
That once again I might find a home
With a little diplomacy—Eh? my Prince—
I' the land that I love as a Daughter.
So dear to my heart was Old England.
And I think—I do really—the time is come,
That once again I might find a home
With a little diplomacy—Eh? my Prince—
I' the land that I love as a Daughter.
So don your smartest, and off you go
Prestissimo straight to Old England!
There sugar your tongue to its honiest, smile
In the unctuous, innocent Roman style—
I bear any malice? Indeed, Oh! No!—
And they'll hail me over The Water.
Prestissimo straight to Old England!
There sugar your tongue to its honiest, smile
56
I bear any malice? Indeed, Oh! No!—
And they'll hail me over The Water.
For I only crave, you must tell them plain,—
And a credulous Land is Old England—
To clasp them close in a fond embrace,
And bid them look on their Father's face
So mild and winning . . . Till once again
I've got tight grip of my Daughter!
And a credulous Land is Old England—
To clasp them close in a fond embrace,
And bid them look on their Father's face
So mild and winning . . . Till once again
I've got tight grip of my Daughter!
Amen.
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