But give me my house on the Kensington gravel:
The wine of the Frenchman is good, and his grub,
But he isn't devoted to soap and the tub;
Though it may be my prejudice, yet I'll be shot,
If I don't think one Englishman's worth all the lot!
With Germans I've no disposition to quarrel,
Though most of their women resemble a barrel;
And, as for myself, I could never make out
The charms of their schnitzel and raw sauer-kraut;
While everyone owns, since the last mighty war,