Or Beauheu spoils a curry:

For hours and hours, I think and talk
Of each remembered hobby:
I long to lounge in Poet's Walk--
Or shiver in the lobby;
I wish that I could run away
From House, and court, and levee,
Where bearded men appear to-day,
Just Eton boys, grown heavy;

That I could bask in childhood's sun,
And dance o'er childhood's roses;
And find huge wealth in one pound one,
Vast wit and broken noses;
And pray Sir Giles at Datchet Lane,
And call the milk-maids Houris;
That I could be a boy again--
A happy boy at Drury's!




THE VICAR.
W. MACKWORTH PRAED

Some years ago, ere Time and Taste
Had turned our parish topsy-turvy,
When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste,
And roads as little known as scurvy,