The Incubus

Essence of boredom! stupefying Theme!
Whereon with eloquence less deep than full,
Still maundering on in slow continuous stream,
All can expatiate, and all be dull:
Bane of the mind and topic of debate
That drugs the reader to a restless doze,
Thou that with soul-annihilating weight
Crushest the Bard, and hypnotisest those
Who plod the placid path of plain pedestrian Prose:
Lo! when each morn I carefully peruse
(Seeking some subject for my painful pen)
The Times, the Standard, and the Daily News,
No other topic floats into my ken
Save this alone: or Dr. Clifford slates
Dogmas in general: or the dreadful ban
Of furious Bishops excommunicates
Such simple creeds as Birrell, hopeful man!
Thinks may perhaps appease th¿ unwilling Anglican.
Lo! at Society¿s convivial board
(Whereat I do occasionally sit,
In hope to bear within my memory stored
Some echo thence of someone else¿s wit),
Or e¿er the soup hath yielded to the fish,
A heavy dulness doth the banquet freeze:
Lucullus¿ self would shun th¿ untasted dish
When lovely woman whispers, ¿Tell me, please,
What are Denominational Facilities?¿