Song for a Dweller in a Quiet Street.
Scale on, scale on, oh! tuneless strummer,
Rum-tum-ti-tiddy-iddy-tum!
You’ve thumped and twangled all the summer,
You tootle still now winter’s come.
The notes you thrum out seem to say,
“Though out of time and tune we be,
Less flat we are, less false than they
Whose clang shall rack thy wife and thee.”