Whene’er I poke
Sarcastic joke
Replete with malice spiteful,
The people vile
Politely smile
And vote me quite delightful! 
Now, when a wight
Sits up all night
Ill-natured jokes devising,
And all his wiles
Are met with smiles,
It’s hard, there’s no disguising! 
Oh, don’t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
And isn’t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

When German bands
From music stands
Play Wagner imper_fect_ly—­
I bid them go—­
They don’t say no,
But off they trot directly! 
The organ boys
They stop their noise
With readiness surprising,
And grinning herds
Of hurdy-gurds
Retire apologizing! 
Oh, don’t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
And isn’t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

I’ve offered gold,
In sums untold,
To all who’d contradict me—­
I’ve said I’d pay
A pound a day
To any one who kicked me—­
I’ve bribed with toys
Great vulgar boys
To utter something spiteful,
But, bless you, no! 
They will be so
Confoundedly politeful! 
In short, these aggravating lads
They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads,
They give me this and they give me that,
And I’ve nothing whatever to grumble at!

THE WORKING MONARCH.

      Rising early in the morning,
        We proceed to light our fire;
      Then our Majesty adorning
        In its work-a-day attire,
      We embark without delay
      On the duties of the day.

  First, we polish off some batches
  Of political dispatches,
      And foreign politicians circumvent;
  Then, if business isn’t heavy,
  We may hold a Royal levee,
      Or ratify some acts of Parliament;
  Then we probably review the household troops—­
  With the usual “Shalloo humps!” and “Shalloo hoops!”
  Or receive with ceremonial and state
  An interesting Eastern Potentate,
      After that we generally
      Go and dress our private valet—­
  (It’s rather a nervous duty—­he’s a touchy little man)
      Write some letters literary
      For our private secretary—­
  He is shaky in his spelling, so we help him if we can. 
      Then, in view of cravings inner,
      We go down and order dinner;
  Or we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate—­
      Spend an hour in titivating
      All our Gentlemen-in-Waiting;
  Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State. 
      Oh, philosophers may sing
      Of the troubles of a King;
  Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great;
      But the privilege and pleasure
      That we treasure beyond measure
  Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State!