Beatrice, have you?

[Achebe]

Beatrice, have you done up your hair?
Are you slathered in makeup? You're lovelier bare,
without accoutrements.

O to be young
to the fair.

Beatrice, if you flash me a smile
I shall set Tower Bridge upon the Nile,
pack up St Pauls and drink the Serpentine,
battle with the lions on Trafalgar Square - 

but hurry, they've voted, in a matter of days
I shall find that you're no longer there.

Woe to the young
to the fair.