My plans soon assuming a definite shape,
I said I would wait while they fetched the escape.
They went off to find it, but came back to shout
That it wasn’t the time for escapes to be out.
“I am burning,” I cried; “I am stifled with smoke;
If you don’t get me out I shall certainly choke.
Go tell the brave fellows who guard us from fire
To bring the escape, or I’m bound to expire.”
They went off again, and each man did his best—
They scoured the east and they scoured the west;
But wherever they went the result was the same—
I was left to the mercy of smoke and of flame.
They borrowed long ladders and a blanket and sheet,
Then they asked me to jump about fifty-two feet;
But, objecting to dash out my brains on the stone,
I could only reply with a shriek and a groan.
The flames would not wait, so they burst through the room,
And I felt the hot breath of my terrible doom;
One last look I gave, but escape saw I none—
The men were off duty, their work being done.
* * * *
My cinders together they carefully swept,
The Press were indignant, my relatives wept;
But I, who have passed to a sphere far away,
Am able the blame at the right door to lay.
No blame must attach to the gallant Brigade,
Overworked and—I’m sorry to say—underpaid;
And I fail to discover a weakness or flaw
In the rules as laid down by our brave Captain Shaw.
No doubt the disaster which killed me was dire,
But the whole of the blame must be laid on the fire,
Which chose to break out, to its shame be it said,
At a time when the firemen had gone home to bed.
After the Act.
HE Act of Sir John had been passed by the State,
And the shops were all closed as Big Ben thundered eight;
The desolate streets were denuded of light,
And only the gin-palace gas-jets were bright.