Equipp'd for a walk to Mecca--
And I run away from Joan of Arc,
To romp with sad Rebecca.

Fair Cleopatra's very plain,
Puck halts, and Ariel swaggers--
And Cæsar's murder'd o'er again,
Though not by Roman daggers.
Great Charlemagne is four feet high--
Sad Stuff has Bacon spoken--
Queen Mary's waist is all awry,
And Psyche's nose is broken.

Our happiest bride, how very odd!
Is the mourning Isabella,
And the heaviest foot that ever trod
Is the foot of Cinderella.
Here sad Calista laughs outright,
There Yorick looks most grave, Sir,
And a Templar waves the cross to-night,
Who never cross'd the wave, Sir.

And what a Babel is the talk!
"The Giraffe"--"plays the fiddle"--
"Macadam's roads"--"I hate this chalk"--
"Sweet girl"--"a charming riddle"--
"I'm nearly drunk with"--"Epsom salts"--
"Yes, separate beds"--"such cronies!"--
"Good heaven! who taught that man to valtz?"--
"A pair of Shetland ponies."