THE MARBLE ARCH.
(A Song for the Season.)
"Can nothing be done for the Marble Arch?... London soot-flakes have dealt cruelly with a surface admirably calculated to receive them."—Pall Mall Gazette.
Air—"I Dreamt that I Dwelt in Marble Halls."
I dreamt that I gazed at the Marble Arch,
King Fog and King Coal at my side,
The soot of November, the dust-storms of March
Had made it a sight to deride.
I said all the foreigners think, I'll be bound,
To our City this thing is a shame;
But I guess 'twill be found, when next Season comes round,
That its state is much the same.
It doeswant a wash, there's no doubt about that,
For the marble's a dull, dirty brown;
That is, where it isn't as black as your hat—
Can'tthey clean it while Swelldom's from Town?
Marble? Deft Tadema, I will be bound,
Would say 'tis not worthy the name;
But I'd wager a pound, when next Season comes round,
We shall find it still the same.