Classic Poem

My father was a worthless knave
To whom a lie came handy;
But I'm a monarch bold and brave,
And like my glass of brandy.

A magic drink is Schnaps! I know,
For I have felt its power.
I toss a bumper down, and lo!
My China bursts in flower.

My Middle Kingdom, purged of strife,
A blooming mead is merely;
A fruitful vine becomes my wife,
And I, a man—or nearly.

Abundance blossoms everywhere,
The sick recover straightly;
Confucius, my philosopher,
Thinks lucidly and greatly.

On almond cakes my soldiers fare—
Rye bread there's not enough in;
And silk and satin are the wear
Of every ragamuffin.

My invalided ancient knights—
My mandarins—go bragging
Abroad again like lusty wights,
Their pigtails bravely wagging.

The great pagoda's built at last,
Faith's symbol and her wonder;
And every Jew abjures his past,
And wears the Dragon-order.

The spirit of revolt is tamed;
The noblest Manchoos shout now,
“We want no constitution framed.
We want the rod, the knout now.”

The sons of Æsculapius
Cry out on dissipation;
I drink my brandy—(let them fuss!)—
To benefit my nation.

Then here's dram, and one dram more!
It tastes like very manna!
Their wretched wine my people pour.
And shout with me, “Hosanna!”