Oh, that‘ twere possible
After those words inane
For me to read The Times
Ever again!
When I was wont to read it
In the early morning hours,
In a mood‘ twixt wrath and mirth,
I exclaimed: “Alas, Ye Powers,
These ideas are fainter, quainter
Than anything on earth!”
A paper's laid before me.
Not thou, not like to thee.
Dear me, if it were possible
The Times should ever see
How very far the times have moved
( Spelt with a little “t” ).