The Stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand,
To prove the upper classes
Have still the upper hand;
Though the fact that they have to be rebuilt
And frequently mortgaged to the hilt
Is inclined to take the gilt
Off the gingerbread,
And certainly damps the fun
Of the eldest son.
But still we won’t be beaten,
We’ll scrimp and screw and save,
The playing fields of Eton
Have made us frightfully brave-
And though if the Van Dycks have to go
And we pawn the Bechstein Grand,
By the Stately Homes of England.
It is so very sad, don’t you think, when a majestic and noble family seat is demolished, at the behest of some jealous neighbours, and and the whim of some uniformed whore of a planning officer.
I am talking, of course, of Boris, and his travails with Islington Council:
London’s mayor Boris Johnson has been forced to demolish a summer house he built on the roof of his Islington home after complaints from neighbours.
Mr Johnson added the building to the rear of the first floor of his Grade II listed home last month.
Planning officers told him to remove the wooden construction after neighbours said it was an eyesore.
Mr Johnson’s spokesman said: “The mayor is grateful to Islington council for their advice on this matter.”
The building was removed earlier this week.