Miss Emilia St John spent innumerable hours
In pursuit of butterflies, bugs and wild flowers
She cared not a fig what the villagers thought
Of her pith helmet, net and large khaki shorts
Tired of Trowbridge and the sedate village life
And never content to be any man's wife
She embarked on a voyage to India by ship
Bid her father, the Rector "So long and pip pip."
In Bagdad a young boy of Sepoy descent
Accompanied the Memsahb wherever she went
Into the mountains west of Zanzibar
In search of rare species for her killing jar
In Rangoon the Sultan of diminutive size
Made improper suggestions over jellied sheep's eyes
In China the Viceroy gave her cause for concern
When the tattle at tiffin took an unsavoury turn
So on through the swampland and regions unknown
Where crocodile backs served as their stepping stones
The intrepid Emilia with her butterfly net
Last seen on a cycle en route to Tibet
