I crave no marble pleasure-dome,
No forks with golden prong;
Like HORACE, in a frugal home
I'd gladly rub along,
Contented with the humblest cot
Or shack or hut, if it had got
A name like Billabong,
Or, better still, like Beeyah-byyah-bunniga-nelliga-jong.
Sweet is the music of the spheres,
Majestic is Mong Blong,