Tennyson talks of "gay quinquenniads." Yes,
But he would mention them with less elation
If he had my experience, I guess,
Of the _not_ gay Quinquennial Valuation!
I am not now so young as once I was,
I have arrived at the Golosh and Gamp Age,
I am not equal to contend--that's poz--
With the Parochial Fathers on the rampage.
Ah me, these Vestry vultures on the pounce!
They scare me, skin me, bully me, and bilk me.
Soon of my flesh they'll scarce have left an ounce,
They so persistently maul, mulct, and milk me.
Once in five years they send me papers blue,
And papers white, and likewise papers yellow;
They "want to know, you know," indeed they do.
First the "First Clerk," a devil of a fellow!
Challenges me to up and tell him all
About gross value, also value rateable.
It's all pure fudge. I am their helpless thrall,
To an extent in civil speech unstateable.
They will not take _my_ word. If I appeal,
They hale me up before a stern Committee,
Fellows with brazen faces, hearts of steel,
And destitute of manners as of pity.
My solemn statement, or my mild demur,
To them a subject of fierce scorn and scoff is;
An honest citizen feels but a cur
When snapped and snarled at by these Jacks-in-Office.
They're sure to have the pull of me somehow;
Oh! I've read "Handbooks." I've attended Meetings