Oh, Scotty, have you visited the Picture Gallery,
And did you see the portraits of the King and Queen and me?
The portraits made by Longstaff, and the pictures done by Jack,
Of the King and Queen and Lawson and the lady all in black?
The King is robed in royal state, with medals on his breast,
And, like the mother Queen she is, Her Majesty is dressed.
The ladys dressed in simple black and sports no precious stones,
And I a suit of reach-me-downs I bought from Davy Jones.
Were strangers two to two, and each unto the other three
I do not know the lady and I dont think she knows me.
Were strangers to each other here, and to the other two,
And they themselves are strangers yet, if all we hear is true.
I spose were just as satisfied as folks have ever been:
The lady would much rather be her own self than the Queen;
And though Im down and precious stiff and I admire King Ned,
Id sooner just be Harry, with his follies on his head.
We four may meet togetherstranger folk have met, I ween,
Than a rhymer and a monarch and a lady and a queen.
Ned and I might talk it over on the terrace, frank and free,
With cigars, while Alexandra and the ladys having tea.
Anyway, well never quarrel while were hanging on the wall
Friends! we all have had our troubleswe are human, one and all!
If by chance we hang togetherhang together on the line,
And the thing should shock the Godlythen its Longstaffs fault, not mine.
