Bother begins!

Bother, that bugbear of bufferish Middle-Age!
Swift "scurry-funging" may do for the young,
The "hey-diddle-diddle, the Cat-and-the-fiddle" age.
"Over the moon" I myself once had sprung,
Thirty years syne, in sheer fervour athletical--
Now, like the dog, I would laugh, and look on.
Once, with sheer "drive," I'd a sense sympathetical--
Now I have none!

Holiday? Term, Sir, is simply a synonym
For--waste of tissue! What doctor will dare
Tell his poor patients so? _I_'ll put _my_ tin on him!
Rest? Recreation? Pick-up? Change of air?
All question-begging fudge-phrases of sophistry!
Let city-toilers who're fagged or "run down,"
Autumnal _quiet_ (in home or in office), try;
_Not_ "out of town."

Out of town? Where is the term that's claptrappier?
_Means_ out of temper, or out of your mind.
Boot-black or old crossing-sweeper's far happier,
Tied to his task in the town--as you'll find.
Picking up coppers far better than picking up
Shells by the sea, or sham friends on the snore.
Bah! What have buffers to do with such kicking-up
Heels? It's a bore!

Who'll start a League to be called Anti-Holiday?