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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=429732" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Glubbdubdrib</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=429732" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">IN the castle of Glubbdubdrib<br>How spendidly we dine<br>On flesh from magic potagers<br>And cups of dead men's wine,<br>Dead men who run with bottles,<br>Lackeys of silent air,<br>A ghost in gilded livery<br>Fawning behind each chair.<br>Beckon, and flunkey Caesars<br>Bring us their phantom bread.<br>Once they were gods and emperors;<br>Now, of course, they are dead.<br>The governor of Glubbdubdrib<br>(Two ghosts cringe on each side)<br>Bows to congratulations,<br>Filled with a careless pride.<br>“Really, the servant problem . . . .<br>You mean that Roman youth?<br>Catullus. Oh, yes, brisk enough,<br>But—you know—so uncouth.<br>“There's Plato in the passage,<br>They tell me he's quite droll.<br>He says some devilish clever things;<br>A heathen, though, poor soul . . . .”<br>The governor of Glubbdubdrib<br>Resumes his drinking-cup.<br>As for the guests and visitors,<br>They hadn't even looked up.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Kenneth+Slessor">Kenneth Slessor</a></strong></div>

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