Here's a pretty tale to tell All about the beastly boche-- How the Bolsheviki fell Out of grace and in the wash! --How all valiant lovers love, How all villains go to hell, Started thither by a shove From the youth who loved so well, Virtue mirrored in the glass Held by his beloved lass. _He who grins in clown's disguise_ _Often hides an aching heart--_ _Sadness, sometimes worldly-wise,_ _Dresses for a motley part--_ _Cap, and bells to cheat the ears,_ _Chalk and paint to hide the tears_ _Lest the world, divining pain,_ _Turn to gape and stare again._…
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