Of amorous swains who want to ring their girls up
And get them through at once (as you for me);
If you can calm the weary and the waxy,
When no appeals, however nicely put,
Can lure from rank or pub. the ticking taxi,
And they, poor devils, have to go on foot;
If you can stem the rush of second-cousins,
Who crowd to get a glimpse of darling Fred,
When Father, Mother, Aunts and friends in dozens
Already form a circle round his bed;