Songs of a SavoyardGilbert, W. S. (William Schwenck)
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Songs of a Savoyard
Gilbert, W. S. (William Schwenck)
English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English; Songs, English -- Texts
Our city we have beautified—we’ve done it willy-nilly—
And all that isn’t Belgrave Square is Strand and Piccadilly.
(They haven’t any slummeries in England.)
We have solved the labour question with discrimination polished,
So poverty is obsolete and hunger is abolished—
(They are going to abolish it in England.)
The Chamberlain our native stage has purged, beyond a question,
Of “risky” situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it’s costumed indiscreetly—
In short, this happy country has been Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We’ve brought about—Utopia’s quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England—with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
Our Peerage we’ve remodelled on an intellectual basis,
Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races—
(They are going to remodel it in England.)
The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek admission,
And Literary Merit meets with proper recognition—
(As Literary Merit does in England!)
Who knows but we may count among our intellectual chickens
Like them an Earl of Thackeray and p’raps a Duke of Dickens—
Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come) we’ll welcome
sweetly—
And then, this happy country will be Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We’ve brought about—Utopia’s quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England—with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
AN ENGLISH GIRL
A WONDERFUL joy our eyes to bless,
In her magnificent comeliness,
Is an English girl of eleven stone two,
And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!
She follows the hounds, and on she pounds—
The “field” tails off and the muffs diminish—
Over the hedges and brooks she bounds—
Straight as a crow, from find to finish.
At cricket, her kin will lose or win—
She and her maids, on grass and clover,
Eleven maids out—eleven maids in—
(And perhaps an occasional “maiden over”).
Go search the world and search the sea,
Then come you home and sing with me
There’s no such gold and no such pearl
As a bright and beautiful English girl!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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