QUITE THE CHEESE
(By a Wilde Æsthete)
THERE was once a maiden who loved a cheese;
Sing, hey! potatoes and paint!
She could eat a pound and a half with ease
Oh, the odorous air was faint!
What was the cheese that she loved the best?
Sing, hey, red pepper and rags!
You will find it out if you read the rest;
Oh, the horrors of frowning crags!
Came lovers to woo her from every land—
Sing, hey! fried bacon and files!
They asked for her heart, but they meant her hand,
Oh, the joy of the Happy Isles.
A haughty old Don from Oporto came;
Sing, hey! new carrots and nails!
The Duke of Gorgonzola, his famous name,
Oh, the lusciously-scented gales!
Lord Stilton belonged to a mighty line!
Sing, hey! salt herrings and stones!
He was "Blue" as chine—his taste divine!
Oh, the sweetness of dulcet tones.
Came stout Double Glo'ster—a man and wife,
Sing, hey! post pillars and pies!
And the son was Single, and fair as fate;
Oh, the purple of sunset skies!
De Camembert came from his sunny France,
Sing, hey! pork cutlets and pearls!
He would talk sweet nothings, and sing and dance,
Oh, the sighs of the soft sweet girls.
Came Gruyère so pale! a most hole-y man!
Sing, hey! red sandstone and rice!
But the world saw through him as worldings can,
Oh, the breezes from Isles of Spice.
But the maiden fair loved no cheese but one!
Sing, hey! acrostics and ale!
Save for Single Glo'ster she love had none!
Oh, the roses on fair cheeks pale!
He was fair and single—and so was she!
Sing, hey! tomatoes and tar!
And so now you know which it is to be!
Oh, the aid of a lucky star!
They toasted the couple the livelong night,
Sing, hey! cast iron and carp!
And engaged a poet this song to write.
Oh, the breathing Æolian harp!
So he wrote this ballad at vast expense!
Sing, hey! pump-handles and peas!
And, though you may think it devoid of sense,
Oh, he fancies it QUITE THE CHEESE!
H. C. Waring.