Britannia Untrussed

Farewell, dear Liz! you were a craze
For four and forty torrid days,
Of which historians will speak
As coming too soon to a peak;
For things went rather to the dogs
Once Mrs Windsor popped her clogs,
And though it's true that now you're toast
There can't be many who can boast
The height of their career has been
The keeling over of a Queen.
(And history will spare for you
At least a footnote, maybe two.)

Huxter Clough