Flaunted colours that tugged their tether;
Tier upon tier the wooden seats
Were packed as full as the London streets
When the King and Queen go by in state.

Click click clack went the turnstile gate;
The orange-sellers cried "Fat and fine
Seville oranges, sweet, like wine:
Twopence apiece, all juice, all juice."
The pea and the thimble caught their goose.

Two white-faced lurchers, not over-clean,
Urged the passers to "spot the Queen."
They flicked three cards that the world might choose,
They cried "All prizes. You cannot lose.
Come, pick the lady. Only a shilling."
One of their friends cried out, "I'm willing."
He "picked the lady" and took his pay,
And he cried, "It's giving money away."

Men came yelling "Cards of the races";
Men hawked matches and studs and laces;
Gipsy-women in green shawls dizened
Read girls' fortunes with eyes that glistened;
Negro minstrels on banjos strumming
Sang at the stiles to people coming.

Like glistening beetles clustered close,
The myriad motors parked in rows,
The bonnets flashed, and the brass did clink,