Christmas is a glorious time.
Don't let bilious bogies blind us
To its larks, which are sublime.
Only wish there was another
Coming—in a month—again!
Stodge is bad for boys? Oh, bother!
I can stand it, right as rain!
Let us, then, be up and doing,
(With a knife and fork and plate,)
All our tips at tuck-shops blueing,