The Builder of Follys

A builder of folly set out to astound
With a network of tunnels and rooms underground
He'd the carpets rolled up and the floorboards away
And his workmen were digging by night and by day
Rubble and topsoil they piled in the hall
The servants knew not what to make of it all
Molehills of dark earth appeared on the lawn
An interminable racket from midnight till dawn
He descended by lift at the foot of the stairs
Conveyed then by rail in a converted bath chair
To a hallway which stretched two thirds of a mile
And a dozen fine bedrooms in the Italian style
He'd a Regency ballroom to tempt the smart set
Bathed in the blue of one hundred gas jets
He invited all those he considered his friends
To a grand opening ball, but not one would attend