The Widow in the Bye Street

by John Masefield

She lured him out of inn into the noise

Of the steam-organ where the horses spun,

And so the end of all things was begun.

Newness in lust, always the old in love.

'Put up your toys,' he said, 'and come along,

We'll have a turn of swing-boats up above,

And see the murder when they strike the gong.'

'Don't 'ee,' she giggled. 'My, but ain't you strong.

And where's your proper girl? You don't know me.'

'I do.' 'You don't.' 'Why, then, I will,' said he.