I’d lave you, boys, to think there was
A nate buffet before them set,
Where lashins of good dhrink there was.
At ten, before the ballroom door
His moighty Excellincy was,
He smoiled and bowed to all the crowd,
So gorgeous and imminse he was.
His dusky shuit, sublime and mute
Into the doorway followed him;
And oh, the noise of the blackguard boys,