The sang-froid of the Brits and Other National Characteristics

There was an old man from Rhodesia

Who swore that his milk of magnesia

Kept him healthy and strong

While he marched the day long,

But for freshness he made use of freesia.

There once was a Brit of Lahore

Who got caught in the middle of a war.

A bullet whizzed by

And knocked off his tie.

"I say, chaps, this is quite a bore."

There once was a spy of Vladivostok

Who said, post hoc ergo propter hoc,

"Zuh reezon, you zee,

Vee pillaged Grozny,

Vaz zuh lapse uff zuh Zoviet Bloc."

There was an old maid of Lorraine

Who couldn't get rid of the stains

That'd been left by the boots

Worn by Germany's troops,

And which every few years were relain.