From Camberwell, of stucco-fronted mien,
To quaintly-decorated Turnham Green,
O Seraphine!
Till Grandma's money came with golden sheen,
You lent a hand at Sarah's weekly clean,
And did not tilt your nose at margarine,
O Seraphine!
And now that I've been made a Rural Dean,
Your figure is no longer slim, my Queen;
You'd scarcely make a graceful ballerine,