He was to give me the cummerbund when I went but let me leave without it. Five silky yards of black satin wound around a thick waist and tucked in. A ceremonious sash, cummerband after the military style. Dismissed from cock-a-tails wound out then rolled up like a field bandage to make room for the mess. Perhaps he thought I'd throttle myself with it, dangle from a lamppost. I did fancy I'd wind it round my skinny neck, careful not to get a flying tail caught in the wheels of some sports-car. Or just pile it on my head whilst I sate on my Dobie.
She sate upon her Dobie,
She heard the Nimmak hum,
When all at once a cry arose,
'The Cummerbund is come!'
In vain she fled: -- with open jaws
The angry monster followed,
And so, (before assistence came,)
That Lady Fair was swallowed.
Edward Lear, fully titled 'The Cummerbund, a poem from India'
First published in the Times of India, Bombay, July, 1874