Ye flags of Piccadilly, 
Where I posted up and down, 
And wished myself so often 
Well away from you and town--

Are the people walking quietly 
And steady on their feet, 
Cabs and omnibuses plying 
Just as usual in the street?

Do the houses look as upright 
As of old they used to be, 
And does nothing seem affected 
By the pitching of the sea?

Through the Green Park iron railings 
Do the quick pedestrians pass? 
Are the little children playing 
Round the plane-tree in the grass?

This squally wild northwester 
With which our vessel fights, 
Does it merely serve with you to 
Carry up some paper kites?

Ye flags of Piccadilly, 
Which I hated so, I vow 
I could wish with all my heart 
You were underneath me now!