MY Lord Tomnoddy’s the son of an earl;

His hair is straight, but his whiskers curl;

His lordship’s forehead is far from wide,

But there’s plenty of room for the brains inside.

He writes his name with indifferent ease;

He’s rather uncertain about the “d’s”;

But what does it matter, if three or one,

To the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son?

My Lord Tomnoddy to college went;

Much time he lost, much money he spent;

Rules, and windows, and heads, he broke;

Authorities wink’d—young men will joke!

He never peep’d inside of a book;

In two years’ time a degree he took,

And the newspapers vaunted the honours won

My Lord Tomnoddy came out in the world;

Waists were tighten’d and ringlets curl’d;

Virgins languish’d, and matrons smil’d.

’Tis true, his lordship is rather wild;

In very queer places he spends his life;

There’s talk of some children by nobody’s wife;

But we mustn’t look close into what is done

By the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son.

My Lord Tomnoddy must settle down—

There’s a vacant seat in the family town!

(’Tis time he should sow his eccentric oats)—

He hasn’t the wit to apply for votes:

He cannot e’en learn his election speech;

Three phrases he speaks, a mistake in each,

And then breaks down; but the borough is won

For the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son.

My Lord Tomnoddy prefers the Guards

(The House is a bore), so, it’s on the cards!

My lord’s a lieutenant at twenty-three;

A captain at twenty-six is he;

He never drew sword, except on drill;

The tricks of parade he has learnt but ill;

A full-blown colonel at thirty-one

Is the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son!

My Lord Tomnoddy is thirty-four;

The earl can last but a few years more;

My Lord in the Peers will take his place;

Office he’ll hold, and patronage sway;

Fortunes and lives he will vote away.

And what are his qualifications?—ONE!

He’s the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son.