An', as their snowy forms goes steppin' by,
It seems I'm seekin' somethin' on the sly.
Somethin' or someone--I don't rightly know;
But, seems to me, I'm kind er lookin' for
A tart I knoo a 'undred years ago,
Or, maybe, more.
Wot's this I've 'eard them call that thing?...Geewhizz!
Me ideel bit o' skirt! That's wot it is!
Me ideel tart!... An', bli'me, look at me!
Jist take a squiz at this, an' tell me can
Some square an' honist tom take this to be
'Er own true man?
Aw, Gawd! I'd be as true to 'er, I would
As straight an' stiddy as...Ar, wot's the good?
Me, that 'as done me stretch fer stoushin' Johns,
An' spen's me leisure gittin' on the shick,
An' 'arf me nights down there, in Little Lon.,
Wiv Ginger Mick,
Jist 'eadin' 'em, an' doing in me gilt.
Tough luck! I s'pose it's 'ow a man is built.
It's 'ow Gawd builds a bloke; but don't it 'urt
When 'e gits yearnin's fer this 'igher life,
On these Spring mornin's, watchin' some sweet skirt
Some fucher wife--
Go sailin' by, an' turnin' on his phiz
The glarssy eye--fer bein' wot 'e is.
I've watched 'em walkin' in the gardings 'ere
Cliners from orfices an' shops an' such;
The sorter skirts I dursn't come too near,
Or dare to touch.
An, when I see the kind er looks they carst...
Gorstrooth! Wot is the use o' me, I arst?
Wot wus I slung 'ere for? An wot's the good
Of yearnin' after any ideel tart?.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25