How blah, the blah of the Immortals,
When blahs spread ever blah-like
O'er sylvan blah and hellish blah alike!
Blahs, doth blah emblah us
To take up Blahian blahments,
Even as Blah himself did
In that oft-blahed time,
E'er blah set the human heart
Against its very blahhood?
Blah again, Blahnanians! Blahlujiah! Excelsior!
Note: Believed lost for more than three decades, a nearly illegible copy of "When Limpid Light Upon Mine Eyes Shines Weary" was discovered at the bottom of Lady Philpott-Tewksbury's handbag when she expired from split ends in 1933. Her nephew, Aldous Tewksbury Smythe, painstakingly restored P.H. Bookfield's legendary poem. Unfortunately, he died fifteen minutes after completing the restoration in 1976. The beautifully restored manuscript now hangs in the British Museum of Interesting Debris, where it can be viewed and admired by all.
A 55 for the G Man.