FLEET STREET
La Rue des Pas Perdus,
We hear the echoing feet,
Dragged by ghastly down-at-heels
Along the ghostly street.
The Street of Strange Shadows;
We see the shadows crawl,
Stumbling to the gutter,
Slinking to the wall.
The Street of the Dead Men.
Secure on Hades’ floor,
In sooth a gladder lot is ours,
For we return no more.
OXFORD STREET
IN Oxford Street the nights are long,
Lamp-flares in myriad jets repeat.
The traffic-surge crests stark and strong
In Oxford Street.
In Oxford Street the girls are tall.
Some trip, some lounge with leaden feet,
For prices rise and prices fall
In Oxford Street.
In Oxford Street the nights are sad.
Bodies and souls all incomplete
Will burn in Hell for feigning glad
In Oxford Street.
QUEENS IN RED AND WHITE
I SERVE two queens, a queen in white,
All virginal and exquisite,
With lips too cold for man’s delight
And eyes where cloistered shadows flit,
Like little nuns that softly pace
Twin cells and ever gaze upon
Glory of Mary Virgin’s grace,
Mayhap the Grail from earth withdrawn.