You'll find it has observed us (what?)
Proceeding at a smartish trot
Through London's throbbing centre.

And there will be some curious stirs,
Unless my fancy greatly errs,
At restaurants and theatres
When our distinctive turn-out
Lines up with all the others there,
And we look out with quite an air
And order the commissionaire
Kindly to put the little stair
That hangs behind the stern out.

And, when at nights our prancing team
(I have before me now a scheme
To use auxiliary steam)
Desires to seek its stable,
Why, John--I have not mentioned John;
He is the man who sits upon
The front of the Pantechnicon--
Will take them off. And when they're gone,
And hush succeeds to Babel,

We'll rest within our home complete
Wherever seems to us most sweet,
And none shall say that such a street
Or such a square is pleasant,
But we shall answer straightway, "Yes,
We used to live at that address;