There is still
Big Game in Africa
—Or there might be trouble
Among the natives.
We thank thee, O Lord,
But we will not read poetry.
But as the Pharisees
Approached the tomb
They saw the boulder
Rolled back,
And that the tomb was empty
—They said
"It's very disconcerting."
I am not at all
Narrow-minded.
I know a tune
When I hear one,
And I know
What I like—
I did not so much mind
That He blasphemed
Saying that He was the Son-of-God,
But He was never
What I call
A Sportsman;
He went out into the desert
For forty days
—And never shot anything
And when He hoped He would drown
He walked on the water.
... No—we will not read poetry.
ENGLISH TEA-ROOMS
Why do they sit in darkness,
Hiss like geese?
Outside the sun flashes his strong wings
Against the green-slit shutters,
Through which you can see
Him bathing in the street.
Like a bird he preens himself at the windows,
Then dances back with the swimming flash of a gold-fish.
Why do you hiss like geese,
What do you hide,
With your thin sibilance of genteel speech?
* * * * *
The Colonel, usually a rollicking character,
In the manner of El Capitano,
Simpers, like any schoolgirl.
Miss Vera complains that her brother
Is suffering from catarrh.
On the other hand
Hotel-life is easier than home-life,
She just rings the bell,
Orders anything she wants,
—And there it is—punctual to the minute.
Both Sir William and his daughter
Are pleased with their holiday;
Admire the flora and the fauna;
Miss Ishmael sketches, and the place abounds
In peasants, picturesque old-bit-and-corner—
* * * * *
If they should die...
Say only this of them,
That there's a corner in some foreign field
That is for ever England...
They travel; yet all foreign things
Are barr'd and bolted out of range
... While England benefits by the exchange.