But there is one good thing above all precious,
That no man may buy.
And though I buy readily most things that I desire,
This thing that the white maid offered at my own price
I would not buy.
The Power of Music
In the little room behind my shop
I refresh myself of an evening with my machine-that-sings.
Two songs has my machine-that-sings:
And these are 'Hitchy Koo' and 'We don't want to lose you.'
When, in the evening, a friend honours me with a visit,
I engage his ears with the air of 'Hitchy Koo';
But when I am afflicted with a visit
From those who fill me with a spirit of no-satisfaction,
I command my machine-that-sings
To render the music of 'We don't want to lose you.'
The noise that at this moment greets the ear
Of the elegant visitor to this despicable hovel
Is the incomparable music of 'Hitchy Koo';
And the price of this person's tea, mister,
Is but a paltry six shillings the pound.
The Lamplighter
The dark days now begin, when in afternoon
The Great Night Lantern makes a razor-edge
Of black and white in the streets.
And one comes, called the Lamplighter,
And the straight stiff lamps of these stiff London streets,
At his quick touch burst into light.
At this shy hour
I see from my unshaded window
Bright girls, hair flowing, go by with shuttered faces,
Holding close captive their warm insurgent bosoms.
And then, at the corner,
Some slender lad of bold and upright carriage
Greets them, and the shuttered lanterns of their faces
Burst with light at the touch of the lamplighter.
Oh, kind ingenious lamplighter,
Will you please step this way?