——:o:——
Carmen Triumphale.
BY R.S.P.L.
Last eve as I sate in my room that looks o’er the church of Saint Clement,
(Nota Bene: I had but of late arrived in town upon business,)
I ordered my boots for a walk, my boots that polished and pointed,
Bright on their surface display the beauty of Warren’s jet blacking:
Now you must know that my man, in his speed to reply to my summons,
Brought me my Wellington boots, but never once thought of the boothooks;
So to allay my spleen by calm and ennobling reflections,