Posterity Shall Know Of Me Even Less

When Every Blessed Thing You Have Is Made Of Silver, Or Of Gold, You Long For Simple Pewter.

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.

So I Fell In Love With A Rich Attorney's Elderly Ugly Daughter.

He Led His Regiment From Behind. He Found It Less Exciting.

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