Septimus Flong, the Dandy Nong,
Walked his octopus down Fisherman’s Prong,
Though common folk would point and joke
At this strange pet in its jewelled yoke
And at his coat of brilliant satin
And his pumps of antique pattern
And his stockings, striped in puce,
And his trews (in cut, quite loose.)
But Septimus, he did not care,
As he paused to powder his hair
And feed his companion a portion of quince
From a silver pot (a gift from a prince.)
O Dandy Nong! You are such a model
For all who tire of commonplace twaddle,
And desire a higher standard of pillock.
Long may you saunter our streets and hillocks.