Dorothy Parker

Victoria

Dear dead Victoria
 Rotted cosily;
In excelsis gloria,
 And R. I. P.
 
And her shroud was buttoned neat,
 And her bones were clean and round,
And her soul was at her feet
 Like a bishop’s marble hound.
 
Albert lay a-drying,
 Lavishly arrayed,
With his soul out flying
 Where his heart had stayed.
 
And there’s some could tell you what land
 His spirit walks serene
(But I’ve heard them say in Scotland
 It’s never been seen).
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