The Incubus

Essence of boredom! stupefying Theme!

Whereon with eloquence less deep than full,

Still maundering on in slow continuous stream,

All can expatiate, and all be dull:

Bane of the mind and topic of debate

That drugs the reader to a restless doze,

Thou that with soul-annihilating weight

Crushest the Bard, and hypnotisest those

Who plod the placid path of plain pedestrian Prose:

Lo! when each morn I carefully peruse

(Seeking some subject for my painful pen)

The Times, the Standard, and the Daily News,

No other topic floats into my ken

Save this alone: or Dr. Clifford slates

Dogmas in general: or the dreadful ban

Of furious Bishops excommunicates

Such simple creeds as Birrell, hopeful man!

Thinks may perhaps appease th¿ unwilling Anglican.

Lo! at Society¿s convivial board

(Whereat I do occasionally sit,

In hope to bear within my memory stored

Some echo thence of someone else¿s wit),

Or e¿er the soup hath yielded to the fish,

A heavy dulness doth the banquet freeze:

Lucullus¿ self would shun th¿ untasted dish

When lovely woman whispers, ¿Tell me, please,

What are Denominational Facilities?¿