Musa Pedestris - Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes [1536 - 1896] Part 42

CULTURE IN THE SLUMS [1887]

[By WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY: "Inscribed to an intense poet"].

I. _Rondeau._

I

"O crikey, Bill!" she ses to me, she ses.

"Look sharp," ses she, "with them there sossiges.

Yea! sharp with them there bags of mysteree! [1]

For lo!" she ses, "for lo! old pal," ses she, [2]

"I'm blooming peckish, neither more nor less." [3]

II

Was it not prime--I leave you all to guess How prime! to have a jude in love's distress [4]

Come spooning round, and murmuring balmilee, [5]

"O crikey, Bill!"

III

For in such rorty wise doth Love express [6]

His blooming views, and asks for your address, And makes it right, and does the gay and free.

I kissed her--I did so! And her and me Was pals. And if that ain't good business.

O crikey, Bill!

II. _Villanelle_.

I

Now ain't they utterly too--too? [7]

(She ses, my Missus mine, ses she), Them flymy little bits of Blue. [8]

II

Joe, just you kool 'em--nice and skew [9]

Upon our old meogginee, Now ain't they utterly too-too?

III

They're better than a pot'n a screw, They're equal to a Sunday spree, Them flymy little bits of Blue!

IV

Suppose I put 'em up the flue, [10]

And booze the profits, Joe? Not me. [11]

Now ain't they utterly too-too ?

V

I do the 'Igh Art fake, I do.

Joe, I'm consummate; and I _see_ Them flymy little bits of Blue.

VI

Which, Joe, is why I ses to you-- aesthetic-like, and limp, and free-- Now ain't they utterly too-too, Them flymy little bits of Blue?

III. _Ballade_.

I

I often does a quiet read At Booty Sh.e.l.ley's poetry; [12]

I thinks that Swinburne at a screed Is really almost too-too fly; At Signor Vagna's harmony [13]

I likes a merry little flutter; I've had at Pater many a shy; In fact, my form's the Bloomin' Utter.

II

My mark's a tidy little feed, And 'Enery Irving's gallery, To see old 'Amlick do a bleed, And Ellen Terry on the die, Or Franky's ghostes at hi-spy, And parties carried on a shutter [14]

Them vulgar Coupeaus is my eye!

In fact, my form's the Bloomin' Utter.

III

The Grosvenor's nuts--it is, indeed!

I goes for 'Olman 'Unt like pie.

It's equal to a friendly lead [15]

To see B. Jones's judes go by.

Stanhope he makes me fit to cry, Whistler he makes me melt like b.u.t.ter, Strudwick he makes me flash my cly-- [16]

In fact, my form's the Bloomin' Utter.

_Envoy_.

I'm on for any Art that's 'Igh!

I talks as quite as I can splutter; I keeps a Dado on the sly; In fact, my form's the Blooming Utter!

[1: sausages]

[2: friend]

[3: very hungry]

[4: girl]

[5: fondling; softly]

[6: thus expressively]

[7: nice]

[8: _i.e._ china]