Six Triolets
Dear Reader
If you never write verses yourself,
Dear reader, I leave it with you,
You will grant a half-inch of your shelf,
If you never write verses yourself.
It was praised by some lenient elf,
It was damned by a heavy review;
If you never write verses yourself,
Dear reader, I leave it with you.
Transpontine
Ices—Programmes—Lemonade!
’E thinks ’e’s a Hirving, my eye!
Why, Pussy, you’re crying: afraid?
Ices—Programmes—Lemonade!
It’s the first time you’ve seen a piece played?
Its pretty, but, Pussy, don’t cry.
Ices—Programmes—Lemonade!
’E thinks ’e’s a Hirving, my eye!
Out
I killed her? Ah, why do they cheer?
Are those twenty years gone to-day?
Why, she was my wife, sir, dear-so dear.
I killed her? Ah, why do they cheer?
... Ah hound! He was shaking with fear,
And I rushed—with a knife, they say....
I killed her? Ah, why do they cheer?
Are those twenty years gone to-day?
[v. Police Reports of the release of George Hall from Birmingham prison.]
A Huproar
Down ‘Ob’n, sir? Circus, Bank, Bank!
’Ere’s a huproar, my bloomin’, hoff side!
A flower, miss? Ah, thankee, miss, thank-
Down ‘Ob’n, sir? Circus, Bank, Bank!
‘Igher up! ‘Ullo, Bill, wot a prank!
If that ’ere old carcase aint shied!
Down ‘Ob’n, sir? Circus, Bank, Bank!
’Ere’s a huproar, my bloomin’, hoff side!
Spring Voices
Fine Violets! fresh Violets! come buy!
Ah, rich man! I would not be you.
All spring-time it haunts me, that cry:-
Fine Violets! fresh Violets! come buy!
Whose loss if she tell me a lie?
“They’re starving; my God, sir, it’s true.”
Fine Violets! fresh Violets! come buy!
Ah, rich man! I would not be you!
Between the Lines
Cigar lights! yer honour? Cigar lights?
May God forget you in your need.
Ay, damn you! if folks get their rights
(Cigar lights! yer honour?-cigar lights)
Their babies shan’t starve in the nights
For wanting the price of your weed-
Cigar lights! yer honour? Cigar lights!
May God forget you in your need!
Ernest Radford.