Of Art a Tabernacle is;
Nor Art alone. With May is interwove
Seaweed, which Neptune's favourites love.
SWINBURNE should sing in stanzas fleet,
How NELSON may, at Chelsea, meet
ARMSTRONG! Sound conch-shell! Let's obey
Thy Proclamation made for May.
Wild marine whiffs from the salt sea are straying,
And the brine greets us as we go a-Maying.
There's not a London-Teuton but this day