The late Robins himself, in despite his vocation,
Would have deemed this a station
Unworthy laudation,
And have probably termed it “a blot on the nation.”
In a lane hard by,
Where the hedge-rows high,
Veil with their leafy boughs the sky,
Biding their time, sits his worship the Mayor,
Master Zachary Blair,
And my Lord Dandelion,