Into the Oyster Land!
To you, ye nameless regions
Of Native worth. Delicious daily visions
Of some Ostrealia, beautiful and bland.
Where at the bar a man might stand,
Gulping cheap bivalve beauties
Down, in the Oyster Land.
O Land! O Land!
No longer hopeful joy stirs
Within my bosom. Rubbish, tinned and potted,