“The longer one lives the more one learns,”
Said I, as off to sleep I went,
Bemused with thinking of tithe concerns,
And reading a book, by the Bishop of Ferns,
On the Irish Church Establishment.
But lo! in sleep not long I lay
When fancy her usual tricks began,
And I found myself bewitched away
To a goodly city in Hindostan:
A city, where he who dares to dine