Again the crisp whitebait we crunch,
And chops of lambkin blithely munch;
Salmon again our shops afford,
And plovers' eggs adorn the board;
While for one day at least our sons
May stuff themselves with hot cross buns!
See now the swells begin to show
Their horsemanship in Rotten Row:
See now the Drive is thronged once more,
And idlers lounge there as of yore: