Explore "Italy (the Baby's Baedeker)" by Harry Graham on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In Italy the sky is blue; / The native loafs and lolls about, / He's nothing in the world to do, / And does it fairly well, no doubt; / (Ital-i-ans are disinclined / To honest work of any kind).
A light Chianti wine he drinks, / And fancies it extremely good; / (It tastes like Stephens' Blue-black Inks); -- / While macaroni is his food. / (I think it must be rather hard / To eat one's breakfast by the yard).