Classic Poem

Vides, ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte

I

Will there be snowfall on lofty Soracte
After a summer so tranquil and torrid?
Whoso detests the east wind, as a fact he
Thinks 'twill be horrid.
But there are zephyrs more mild by the ocean,
Every keen touch of the snowdrifts to lighten:
It to be cosy and snug you've a notion —
Winter in Brighton!

II

Politics nobody cares about Spurn a
Topic whereby all our happiness suffers.
Dolts in the back streets of Brighton return a
Couple of duffers.
Fawcett and White in the Westminster Hades
Strive the reporters' misfortunes to heighten.
What does it matter? Delicious young ladies
Winter in Brighton!

III

Good is the turtle for luncheon at Mutton's,
Good is the hock that they give you at Bacon's
Mainwaring's fruit in the bosoms of gluttons
Yearning awakens;
Buckstone comes hither, delighting the million,
'Mong the theatrical minnows a Triton;
Dickens and Lemon pervade the Pavilion: —
Winter in Brighton!

IV

If you've a thousand a year, or a minute —
If you're a D'Orsay, whom every one follows —
If you've a head (it don't matter what's in it)
Fair as Apollo's —
If you approve of flirtations, good dinners,
Seascapes divine which the merry winds whiten,
Nice little saints and still nicer young sinners —
Winter in Brighton!