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DE TEA FABULA

Do I sleep? Do I dream?

Am I hoaxed by a scout?

Are things what they seem,

Or is Sophists about?

Is our τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι a failure, or is Robert Browning played out?

Which expressions like these

May be fairly applied

By a party who sees

A Society skied

Upon tea that the Warden of Keble had biled with legitimate pride.

’Twas November the third.

And I says to Bill Nye,

“Which it’s true what I’ve heard:

If you’re, so to speak, fly,

There’s a chance of some tea and cheap culture, the sort recommended as High.”

Which I mentioned its name

And he ups and remarks:

“If dress-coats is the game

And pow-wow in the Parks,

Then I’m nuts on Sordello and Hohensteil-Schwangau and similar Snarks.”

Now the pride of Bill Nye

Cannot well be express’d;

For he wore a white tie

And a cut-away vest:

Says I: “Solomon’s lilies ain’t in it, and they was reputed well dress’d.”

But not far did we wend,

When we saw Pippa pass

On the arm of a friend

—Dr. Furnivall ’twas,

And he wore in his hat two half-tickets for London, return, second-class.