I Am A Courtier Grave And Serious

Roll On, Thou Ball, Roll On! Through Pathless Realms Of Space, Roll On!

When You Are Lying Awake With A Dismal Headache, And Repose Is Tabooed By Anxiety, I Conceive You May Use Any Language You Choose To Indulge In Without Impropriety.

Bow, Bow, Ye Lower Middle Classes! Bow, Bow, Ye Tradesmen, Bow, Ye Masses!

Spurn Not The Nobly Born With Love Affected; Nor Treat With Virtuous Scorn The Well Connected.

When In That House Mps Divide/if They've A Brain And Cerebellum, Too/they've Got To Leave That Brain Outside/and Vote Just As Their Leaders Tell 'em To.