For he might have been a Rooshian A French or Turk or Proosian, Or perhaps Italian. But in spite of all temptations To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman.
Now landsmen all, whoever you may be, If you want to rise to the top of the tree. If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool, Be careful to be guided by this golden rule - Stick close to your desks and never go to to sea, And you may all be Rulers of the Queen's Navee.
If you wish in this world to advance Your merits you're bound to enhance; You must stir it and stump it, And blow your own trumpet, Or, trust me, you haven't a chance.
Perhaps if you address the lady Most politely, most politely, Flatter and impress the lady Most politely, most politely, Humbly beg and humbly sue, She may deign to look on you.