A promenade with tongues alive
That every phrase of OLLENDORFF use;
And "_Luther's Hymn_" at half-past five
To drag you from the arms of Morpheus;
Fat Germans in their awful "Fracks,"
Pale Frenchmen, too, a bit _décolletés_,
And dapper Britons with attacks
Of livers and digestions faulty.
A garden fair with "Quellen" foul--
_Ach, Himmel_! How they taste those "Quellen"!
Then rolls and coffee, next a prowl
Among the shops with JANE or ELLEN;
The mid-day meal at _table d'hôte_,
All windows closed--a climate hellish!--
With dishes too crackjaw to quote,
And sometimes difficult to relish.
An afternoon of drowsy drives--
How these poor foreigners love driving
To places where, when one arrives,
There's nought for which it's worth arriving!--
A "Belvedere"--like Primrose Hill,
A "Gartenhaus," tobacco-scented;
Yet there they smoke, and moon, and swill,
Quite adipose, and self-contented.
A "Kursaal," very large, and fine;
A Theatre, small, and shabby-splendid;
More beer, more music, ditto wine
(This latter can be much commended).
The Military (each salutes!)
With HANNCHEN on their arm or MARIE;
I wonder where they get those boots--
I mean, of course, the Military.
Lawn-Tennis and an "English Club,"
Frequented now by Lords and Princes,
Where every snobling likes to rub
His elbows with a Peer, who winces;
The tittle-tattle of the cliques,
Some half-proposals for our daughters--
Such is the life that makes for weeks
A fortune--for the German Waters!
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