These be the grim suburban days,
And, tho' in verse we frolic,
All soberly we go our ways
Writing our sweet commercial lays
And any sort of stuff that pays
(Our Johnnie's got the colic).

When Omar was our guiding star
We drank and quoted gaily,
But Middle Age said 'Here you are!'
And now we live in suburbs far,
And watch the fleeting railway car,
And rush to catch it daily.

We're settled down and going bald,
And when we sit at table
The wife recites the Ones Who've Called
(Some years ago it would have palled,
But - Pegasus is snugly stalled
And champing in his stable).

We've done with dreams - we've done with drinks
(Could anything be stranger!)
And when we ask Peg. thro' the chinks
Of his abode just what he thinks,
The old steed whisks his tail, and winks
Into his well-filled manger.

More verses by Ernest O'Ferrall