And even to-day the war-weariest Willie
Recovers his spirits in dear Piccadilly.
We haven't the belles with their Gainsborough hats,
Or the Regency bucks with their wondrous cravats,
But now that the weather no longer is chilly;
There's much to enchant us in New Piccadilly.
As I sit in my club and partake of my "ration"
No longer I'm vexed by the follies of fashion;
The dandified Johnnies so precious and silly—
You seek them in vain in the New Piccadilly.