Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3830/A Benefactor
Their blazon flashed across the sky Or ever the War began; In divers spots it struck the eye Of every passing man. Aloft the flickering words would run, Curtly commanding me To use the Soap of Such a One, Or swallow Someone's Tea.
But oh, in London's sky to-day Such legends no man meets, And, as I go my cautious way By dark but decent streets, I think of him who bade depart These beacons' blatant din,And almost find it in my heart To bless Count Zeppelin.