Classic Poem

“The Saracen's Head” looks down the lane,
Where we shall never drink wine again,
For the wicked old women who feel well-bred
Have turned to a tea-shop “The Saracen's Head.”

“The Saracen's Head” out of Araby came,
King Richard riding in arms like flame,
And where he established his folks to be fed
He set up a spear—and the Saracen's Head.


But the “Saracen's Head” outlived the Kings,
It thought and it thought of most horrible things,
Of Health and of Soap and of Standard Bread,
And of Saracen drinks at the “Saracen's Head.”

So the “Saracen's Head” fulfils its name,
They drink no wine—a ridiculous game—
And I shall wonder until I'm dead,
How it ever came into the Saracen's Head.