Vex not thou the banker's mind br (His what?) with a show of sense, br Vex it not, Willie, his mind, br Or pierce its pretence br On the supposition that it ever br Was other, or that this cheerful giver br Will give, save to the blind. br br Come not anear the dark-browed sophist br Who on the so well-paid ground br Will cheerfully tell you a fist is no fist, br Come not here br With 2 and 2 making 4 in reason, br Knowest thou not the truth is never in season br In these quarters or Fleet St.? br br In his eye there is death, I mean the banker's, br In his purse there is deceit, br It is he who buys gold-braid for the swankers br And gives you Australian iced rabbits' meat br In place of the roast beef of Britain, br And leaves you a park bench to sit on br If you git off the Embankment. br br This is the kind of tone and Solemnity br That used to be used on the young, br My old man got no indemnity br But he swaller'd his tongue. br Like all his class was told to hold it in those days, br To mind their ‘p’s’ and their ‘q’s’ and their ways br An' be thankful for occasional holidays. br br I don't quite see the joke any more, br Or why we should stand to attention br And lick the dirt off the floor br In the hope of honourable mention br From a great employer like Selfridge br Or a buyer of space in the papers. br I'm getting too old for such capers.