There is not in the wide world a town with a name
Queer as that to whose bosom the Emperors came;
Oh! ev’n than the treadmill the labour were worse—
That town with the queer name to squeeze into verse!
But not of that town or its name do we treat,
But the reason would know why the Emperors meet;
The quid-nuncs look wise, but—explain it who can?—
What the mischief’s the mischief those Emperors plan?
Are those heads, so beloved of their peoples, brought near
To bring on a war ere the close of the year,