Where, thanks to his devoted work, Beethoven found superb rendition.
All these I’ve heard, and others, too—poor Seidl, who has talked with Charon;
Nikisch, whose eager gestures make it difficult to keep your hair on;
Then there’s a chap whose name I’ve lost (I think he wrote “The Rose of Sharon”);
Wood, of Queen’s Hall, in London Town;
Strauss, for his programme-music known;
Dozens whose brains the genius own that’s common to the seed of Aaron.
But if good music is the thing your inmost soul would fain get fat on,
Avoid, I pray, good Boston town, where, though no male may keep his hat on,
The ladies talk the whole show through, and you will certainly be sat on