And up in the air go Alf and Ern's tiles;
But what is this rumour of war? Whence cometh it from?"
So said Bottlesham, best of cities
Watching the ball from seats above.
"Belgium ruined? A thousand pities!
Bother the Kaiser's mailéd glove!"
But it left no stings
When they heard these things,
Though they wept as the brown bird weeps for Itys
On the day that the Wanderers whacked them two to love.