And when you’ve turned his wrath away
And shown him he was wrong,
Then teach him, if you’ve time to stay,
Some sweet Salvation song.
Far better let ten thousand such
Go free to bash again,
Than one should know the cat’s vile touch
Or feel a moment’s pain.
O, do not flog—in mercy spare
The burglar’s tender hide.
Though murder’s rife, what need we care?
The Scripture’s on our side.
Come then, ye bashing burglar crew,
Put up your sweet mouths—so,
And let the cranks who plead for you
Return you kiss for blow.
If You Were Here.
(ANY HUSBAND TO ANY WIFE, WITH APOLOGIES TO ALFRED AUSTIN.)
F you were here, if you were here,
My butcher’s bill would be more clear,
The Life Guards out for exercise
Would not so often raise their eyes
To where the housemaids smile and smirk,
And play the hours away at work.
If you were here my morning tea
Perchance would slightly stronger be,
My evenings, now so lone and long,
Might know the solace of a song;
I should not feel inclined to shriek
When chairs and tables groan and creak.
My midnight ghosts I should not fear
If you were here, if you were here.
’Tis sad to be alone; but still
There is some sugar round the pill.
I’m master now, and have my way—
There’s no one here to say me nay.
Though all is silent as the tomb,
I smoke my pipe in ev’ry room.
When out no train I rush to catch—
My key goes boldly in the latch.
No more, lest I disturb your sleep,
On tiptoe up the stairs I creep.
Nor do I have to scratch my pate
To think what kept me out so late.
And that I’d oft to do, my dear,
When you were here, when you were here.
Le Brav’ General
T costs some cash to catch the Gauls,
And placard all the Paris walls,
But his big balance never falls.
Who finds the money?
He travels like a little king,
And “cuts a dash” and “does the thing,”
And spares no cost to have his fling.
Who finds the money?