Classic Poem

Es läuft dahin die Barke

Swift as a deer, my bark
Cuts through the waters, leaping
Over the Thames, and sweeping
Us on to Regent's Park.

There lives my darling Kitty,
Whose love is never shoddy;
Who has the whitest body
In West End or the City.

She smiles, expecting me there,
And fills the water-kettle,
And wheels the tiny settle
Forward — and we have tea there!