(The King of London their presence beseeches,)

No guest who has any touch of nous

Will be weary of after-dinner speeches.

When the Royal Academy blooms in May,

With its pretty girls and their cheeks like peaches

Who won't, on the opening Saturday,

Listen to after-dinner speeches?

When there's ought that's generous to be done,

A greeting to pay that no soul impeaches,

A dinner's the best thing under the sun,