di Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)

"Tra la la la la la la la
See me dance the polka",
Said Mr Wagg like a bear,
"with my top hat
And my whiskers that -
(Tra la la) trap the Fair."
Where the waves
seem chiming haycocks
I dance the polka; there
Stand Venus' children in their gay frocks, -
Maroon and marine, - and stare
To see me fire my pistol
Through the distance blue as my coat;
Like Wellington, Byron, the
Marquis of Bristol,
Busbied great trees float.
While the wheezing hurdy-gurdy
Of the marine wind blows me
To the tune of Annie Rooney, sturdy,
Over the sheafs of the sea;
And bright as a seedsman's packet
With zinnias, candytufts chill,
Is Mrs. Marigold's Jacket
As she gapes at the inn door still,
Where at dawn in the box of the sailor,
Blue as the decks of the sea,
Nelson awoke crowed like the cocks,
Then back to the dust sank he.
And Robinson Crusoe
Rues so
The bright and foxy beer, -
But he finds fresh isles
in a negress' smiles, -
The poxy doxy dear,
As they, watch me dance the polka",
Said MrWagg like a bear,
"In my top hat and my whiskers that, -
Tra la la, trap the Fair,
Tra la la la la la -
Tra la la la la la -
Tra la la la la la la la
La La La!"