Ballad of Hell and of Mrs Roebeck

I'm going out to dine at Gray's

With Bertie Morden, Charles and Kit,

And Manderly who never pays,

And Jane who wins in spite of it,

And Algernon who won't admit

The truth about his curious hair

And teeth that very nearly fit:

And Mrs Roebeck will be there.

And then to-morrow someone says

That someone else has made a hit

In one of Mister Twister's plays.

And off we go to yawn at it;

And when it's petered out we quit

For number 20, Taunton Square,

And smoke, and drink, and dance a bit:

And Mrs Roebeck will be there.

And so through each declining phase

Of emptied effort, jaded wit,

And day by day of London days

Obscurely, more obscurely, lit;

Until the uncertain shadows flit

Announcing to the shuddering air

A Darkening, and the end of it:

And Mrs Roebeck will be there.

Princes, on their iron thrones they sit,

Impassible to our despair,

The dreadful Guardians of the Pit:

And Mrs Roebeck will be there.