An afternoon of drowsy drives—
How these poor foreigners love driving
To places where, when one arrives,
There's nought for which it's worth arriving!—
A "Belvedere"—like Primrose Hill,
A "Gartenhaus," tobacco-scented;
Yet there they smoke, and moon, and swill,
Quite adipose, and self-contented.
A "Kursaal," very large, and fine;
A Theatre, small, and shabby-splendid;