If, when the strident trumpets blare
From Hampstead Heath to Clapham Junction,
And bunting fills the ardent air,
I don't assist at that brave function.
It does not follow, let me say,
That I am loath to give you cheer;
No, in my unobtrusive way
I hold you very, very dear;
I may not join the loud parade
Nor share the crowd's ecstatic tooting,