John Betjeman

A Wembley Lad

To every ducal palace
    When days were old and slow,
Me and my sister Alice
    By charabanc would go.

My new position such is
    In halls of social fame
That many a duke and duchess
    I know by Christian name.

Belvoir, Blenheim, Chatsworth,
    Luncheon, dinner, tea,
And stay the night—ah!—that’s worth
    All the world to me.

And as for sister Alice
    She would not like it here:
She’d be nervous in a palace
    And call the duchess ‘dear’.

So I’m off to the Bath Assembly
    With head and heart held high
But palaceless Alice in Wembley
    Knows how alone go I.