And all our sires held first and best
In pufferies of all sizes dressed,
Till England watch, through England's Press,
The fall of English manliness!
Vexed soul, seek out some other shore;
Houses are castles here no more;
Vain in the penny-age to fly
From all the penny-trumpetry:
Or hide thee from the watchful zeal
Of those who serve the weekly meal