Twelve hundred jingling, tingling quid.
In fact my brain in anguish reels
To think we never took a leaf
Out of the book which taught that eels
Are better than prime cuts of beef.

In youth, fastidiously inclined,
I own with shame that I eschewed,
Like most of my unthinking kind,
This luscious and nutritious food;
But now that DESBOROUGH reveals
Its value, with profound belief
I sing with him: "One pound of eels
Is better than a loin of beef."

I chant it loudly in my bath,
I chant it when the sun is high,
And when the moon pursues her path
Noctambulating through the sky.
And when the bill of fare at meals
Is more than usually brief,
Again I sing: "One pound of eels
Is better than a loin of beef."

It is a charm that never fails
When friends accost me in the street
And utter agonizing wails
About the price of butcher's meat.
"Cheer up," I tell them, "creels on creels
Are hastening to your relief;