Poem by Hilaire Belloc

Talking (and Singing) of the Nordic Man

I

Behold, my child, the Nordic man,
And be as like him, as you can;
His legs are long, his mind is slow,
His hair is lank and made of tow.

II

And here we have the Alpine Race:
Oh! What a broad and foolish face!
His skin is of a dirty yellow.
He is a most unpleasant fellow.

III

The most degraded of them all
Mediterranean we call.
His hair is crisp, and even curls,
And he is saucy with the girls.

1. Noël
2. To Dives
3. Stanzas Written on Battersea Bridge during a South-Westerly Gale
4. In a Boat
5. Courtesy

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