(_Who whistled of Monte Carlo not wisely, but too well._)
Sweet youth! I wonder if you'll feel much pain
To know that that sweet soul-inspiring strain
You whistle at so wonderful a rate
Is now in point of fact quite out of date.
Down in the country pr'aps you hardly know
At what a pace these street-songs come and go.
At present you're a day behind the fair,
And want (as I myself) a change of air.
You should protest you're being driven crazy
By waiting for the answer of fair DAISY;
Or else ask sadly what was she to do
Who, "silly girl," got taken on to Crewe.
Whistle _that_ charming ditty, if you must,
Until, (forgive the phrase) until you bust,
But do _not_ whistle, if you wish to rank
As in the know, "_The Man who broke the Bank_."
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