Harry Graham
See how father bolts his meals, at what lightning speed he guzzles
Ere with hasty steps he steals, off to cope with pictures-puzzles
Note how patiently he plays, though its knotty points afflict him
When the fatal jig-saw craze, claims him as its victim
What excuse have we for saying, England’s manhood is decaying?

Members of each West-end club, following the latest fashion
Sacrifice both time and grub, to the picture puzzle passion
In the billiard room they sit, heedless of the hour or weather
And with knitted foreheads fit, bits of wood together
Are there people still complaining that our sense of sport is waning?

Men of ev’ry age and rank, join in this alluring hobby
Partners ‘puzzle’ at the Bank, politicians in the Lobby
In the barrack or the ship, warriors share the same ambition
To arrange a coloured chip, in the right position.
Mouths of foreign critics muzzling, by their skill in 'picture-puzzling'.

Who shall talk of England’s fame, for her frailties find excuses
While we play this noble game, put our talents to such uses?
While our man and womanhood, father, mother, sister, brother
Fit those little bits of wood into one another
Fellow Britons, we may surely, sleep within our beds securely.
The end