“My British Voices”: July 27th 1876,

My British voices speak to me
In such charming ways.
They say “Tally-ho-da-loo”
And “Tipper on the top side, what?”
They can make me happy as prancing in flowr’d fields
Even when I am strapped down and raving.

But whence the darkness in what my British voices say?
How fortarooth should I take such?
“Halloo and milk the cow in yon meadow,” indeed,
And what of “There’s a good chap. Smack your doctor!”
I’ve no wish to harm my physician
And no knowledge of cow milking, whatever.

My British voices speak nonsense with such enthusiasm and affability,
That I wish to understand them, so I can act,
But how do I “head for the dells when the widow’s in her weeds”?
Or respond to “Harridans to ewes, but my lady has seen brighter suns”?
But they say it’s time for tea, and to shush.

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