Laudator Temporis Acti

A.P. Herbert (1890-1971), "Bacon and Eggs," A Book of Ballads (London: Ernest Benn Limited, 1931), pp. 31-34:

Now blest be the Briton, his beef and his beer,
And all the strong waters that keep him in cheer,
But blest beyond cattle and blest beyond kegs
Is the brave British breakfast of bacon and eggs—

                    Bacon and eggs,
                    Bacon and eggs;
                       Sing bacon,
                       Red bacon,
                 Red bacon and eggs!

Thus armed and thus engined, well-shaven and gay,
We leap to our labours and conquer the day,
While paltry pale foreigners, meagre as moles,
Must crawl through the morning on coffee and rolls—

                    Coffee and rolls,
                    Barbarous rolls;
                      Sing coffee,
                      Black coffee,
                 Vile coffee and rolls!

What wonder the Frenchman, blown out with new bread,
Gesticulates oft and is light in the head!
Our perfect control of our arms and our legs
We owe to our ballast of bacon and eggs—

                    Bacon and eggs,
                    Unemotional eggs;
                       Sing bacon,
                       Fat bacon,
                 Brave bacon and eggs!

What wonder that Fortune is careful to place
Her loveliest laurels on men of our race,
While sorrow is heaped upon Prussians and Poles
Who shame the glad morning with coffee and rolls—

                    Coffee and rolls,
                    Ladylike rolls;
                      Sing coffee,
                      Pooh! coffee,
                 Black coffee and rolls!

What wonder the Russian looks redly because
Our England, old England, is much what it was!
We fight to the finish, we drink to the dregs
And dare to be Daniels on bacon and eggs—

                    Bacon and eggs,
                    Masculine eggs;
                      Sing bacon,
                      Bring bacon,
                 And fry me two eggs!

But gross Europeans who constantly munch
Too little at breakfast, too freely at lunch,
Sit sated in cafes, incapable souls,
And go to the devil on coffee and rolls—

                    Coffee and rolls,
                    Windy wet rolls;
                      At coffee
                      I'm scoffy,
                  I execrate rolls!

O breakfast! O breakfast! The meal of my heart!
Bring porridge, bring sausage, bring fish for a start,
Bring kidneys and mushrooms and partridges' legs,
But let the foundation be bacon and eggs—

                    Bacon and eggs,
                    Bacon and eggs;
                      Bring bacon,
                      Crisp bacon,
                 And let there be eggs!