I must sack my late servants, and turn off their head.
“A little more sleep, and a little more slumber,
And my wars, big and little, had grown out of number;
Over vanishing trade I’d have had to fold hands,
Perplexed not with orders, but debtor’s demands.
“I passed Jingo’s Music Hall, lit with blue fire,
That on Russia’s big bogey blazed higher and higher,
I heard “Rule Britannia,” saw waving of flags,
With a great deal by way of bounce, bunkum, and brags.
“I called upon Jingo, as hoping to find,