1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come