Pigmy seraphs — gone astray —
Velvet people from Vevay —
Balles from some lost summer day —
Bees exclusive Coterie —
Paris could not lay the fold
Belted down with Emerald —
Venice could not show a check
Of a tint so lustrous meek —
Never such an Ambuscade
As of briar and leaf displayed
For my little damask maid —
I had rather wear her grace
Than an Earl’s distinguished face —
I had rather dwell like her
Than be “Duke of Exeter” —
Royalty enough for me
To subdue the Bumblebee.
