Over my straw-crowned poll the blue skies laugh;
A waterfall (no charge) completes a view
Equal to any German oleograph.
There are no bugle blares to make me jump,
But just the jodler calling to his kine;
A few good Teuton toadies, loud and plump,
More than suffice me in the levée line;
And, when poor ALEXANDER, there in Greece,
Writes of your "agents" rounded up and sacked,
I am content with privacy and peace,