The Bard to the schemer of newspaper placards.
Why, crystalliser of the world's diurnal
Experience, why plunge my soul in gloom
With tidings that are ghastly and infernal?
Why dim my morning eye with tales of doom,
Of flood and fire, of pestilence and drouth—
Leaving me down, distinctly, in the mouth?
Why stun me with: "Explosion in a Larder:
Cook and Policeman Blown to Bits"; "The Girl
That Poisoned Half a Parish"; "Weather Harder
And Death Rate Rising"; "Poacher Brains an Earl";
Why blazon blackly forth such blighting news,
Nor give a glimpse of life's less dismal hues?
Why not proclaim such gladness as the following:
"Twins Born in Tooting: Trio Doing Well";
"Chelsea Churchwarden much Improved, and Swallowing
Beef-Tea With Ease"; "A Famous Barking Belle
Gets Off at Last"; "A Navvy's Love of Greek";
"Young Poet Earns a Guinea in a Week"?
"Velour Hat, pretty blue, trimmed large elephant."—Advt.
A small seagull looks prettier and is less in the way at matinées.