"I know you not, old man," you cry,
"Fall to your prayers—you badly need 'em!"
For Athens, to your great content,
Calls you to be her guiding star
(Only a paltry one per cent
Wanted to leave you where you are);
And you've agreed to take it on,
Jumped at the prospect Fate discloses,
And thought, "With Venezelos gone,
Life will be one long bed of roses."