De Tea Fabula

Do I sleep? Do I dream?
 Am I hoaxed by a scout?
  Are things what they seem,
 Or is Sophists about?
  Is our "to ti en einai" a failure, or is Robert Browning played
  out?
  Which expressions like these
 May be fairly applied
  By a party who sees
 A Society skied
  Upon tea that the Warden of Keble had biled with legitimate
  pride.
 'Twas November the third,
 And I says to Bill Nye,
 'Which it's true what I've heard:
 If you're, so to speak, fly,
  There's a chance of some tea and cheap culture, the sort
  recommended as High.'
  Which I mentioned its name,
 And he ups and remarks:
 'If dress-coats is the game
 And pow-wow in the Parks,
  Then I 'm nuts on Sordello and Hohenstiel-Schwangau and similar
  Snarks.'
  Now the pride of Bill Nye
 Cannot well be express'd;
  For he wore a white tie
 And a cut-away vest:
  Says I, 'Solomon's lilies ain't in it, and they was reputed well
  dress'd.'
  But not far did we wend,
 When we saw Pippa pass
  On the arm of a friend
 —Doctor Furnivall 'twas,
  And he wore in his hat two half-tickets for London, return,
  second-class.
 'Well,' I thought, 'this is odd.'
 But we came pretty quick
  To a sort of a quad
 That was all of red brick,
  And I says to the porter,—'R. Browning: free passes; and kindly
  look slick.'
  But says he, dripping tears
 In his check handkerchief,
 'That symposium's career's
 Been regrettably brief,
  For it went all its pile upon crumpets and busted on
  gunpowder-leaf!'
  Then we tucked up the sleeves
 Of our shirts (that were biled),
  Which the reader perceives
 That our feelings were riled,
  And we went for that man till his mother had doubted the traits
  of her child.
  Which emotions like these
 Must be freely indulged
  By a party who sees
 A Society bulged
  On a reef the existence of which its prospectus had never
  divulged.
  But I ask,—Do I dream?
  Has it gone up the spout?
  Are things what they seem,
 Or is Sophists about?
  Is our "to ti en einai" a failure, or is Robert Browning played
  out?