Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis: Verses about Politics

Now, children, in this Lesson Two,
Briefly we'll make some mention
Of party, just in case that you
Some day, with the intention
Of furthering ambitions grand,
May seek to serve your native land.

You join a Party, first of all
This move is most essential.
Your Private Views you must recall,
They're quite unconsequential;
For if you'd be a Party Man
You must cleave to the Party Plan.

Either you must be Black or White;
Browns, Drabs and Greys don't matter.
If you choose White, White's always right,
If Black, then with the latter
Rests all Wisdom in the Land.
You've got to Barrack for your Brand.

But, children, there's a chance you may
With Obstinate Persistence
Incline to Fawn, or Cream or Grey,
Then you can't Make the Distance.
You'll keep your Soul; but I'm afraid
You'll have to learn some Nicer Trade.

Say you have some great objective.
Very well. Be calm, reflective;
Make no vulgar show of vigor; 'tisn't good.
Do not rush the thing directly;
But approach it circumspectly,
As a gentlemanly politician should.
Though certain consequences hinge upon the laws you make,
Your prestige in high politics rests with the road you take.


For the common sort of fellows,
With enthusiastic bellows,
Rush about and shout their schemes in ev'ry ear;
In their shirt-sleeves, toiling, fretting,
And most vulgarly a-sweating,
Quite without a thought or care how they appear.
And if they do arrive at things a trifle in advance
Their strenuous endeavors go to prove their ignorance.


Have a care for your appearance
If you claim the least adherence
To the genteel game of politics as played
By right-thinking politicians,
Who 'consider their positions'
Once a week, while common business is delayed.
And shun, O, shun that fearsome fellow eager for a spurt,
And the man who, metaphorically, labors in his shirt.


What though others rush before you?
What though busy folk ignore you?
Draw your gloves on carefully and take your stick.
Having chosen your direction,
Then proceed, with circumspection,
Stepping out with dignity - but not too quick.
If mere workers are before you, that is what you must expect;
But reflect, with satisfaction, that your route is more select.


Then, pray, have no hesitation
Should you find your destination
Is the same as that of him that humps the load
In declaring that your action
Gives you perfect satisfaction,
As you reached the place by quite another road.
Ignore his paltry claim to being first - such was his whim;
But emphasise the fact that you disdained to follow him.

Friends!
Have you, too, noticed that calm which descends
Upon affairs today?
Search as we may,
The papers have few things indeed to say
Of even world affairs, and, as to local,
Why, they are hardly vocal.
They even lack news of diverting crimes.
These be dull times.

Even the seething world of politics
Where factions mix,
And cause, most days, at least some mild commotion,
Seem like a placid ocean -
Like some blue tropic sea, peaceful and calm.
Floored with pink coral, fringed by wavy palm,
Where all is gentleness and holy calm...
Talking of topics, even Mister Hughes
Seems, in these days, steadfastly to refuse
To air his views.
Nay, he will not
Even refer to Mister Watt.
Eh, he is far too mild.
And, friends, I fear me that we are beguiled
By this strange calm, this seeming peace, this bliss.
My friends, I - don't - like - this!
For
In the not too greatly distant yore
I've seen it all before.

And I, my friends,
Know well what it portends.
The silent politicians, friends, are scheming
While we are dozing, dreaming.
Seeming to rest from labour, they are busy
Thinking until their mighty brains grow dizzy
For why, my friends, elections darkly loom
Large in the middle-distance, and gaunt Doom
Looks down upon them, poised to spring like winking
Unless they do some stern and solid thinking . . .

And does the politician think these days of us,
Who seem so precious to him when the fuss
And fret of mad campaigning wring his withers
What time he blathers
Loud of intelligent electors? Yes;
I must confess
He thinks of us; but never quite
As sentient beings yearning for the light;
For, friends, he dotes
Ever on votes.
And, truly, as it was in the beginning
(No matter which side happens to be winning)
'Tis now, and ever will be just the same.
And we shall still be mere pawns in the game . . .

Voters! For goodness sake,
Awake!
It's up to you
To do
Some really serious thinking too.
I don't care on which side you mean to vote
Peel off the coat!
(Indeed, indeed,
You may do wonders if you will take heed)
Or else - I say it with reluctant lips
Remain, as hitherto, just poker chips.

Jack Sprat would eat no fat,
His wife would eat no lean,
And so, betwixt them both, you see,
They licked the platter clean.
Old nursery rhyme

Gentlemen, I'd like to mention, with your very kind attention,
One important point I wish you all to know;
We've a policy extensive and extremely comprehensive -
Me an' Joe.
As a fact, 'tis all-embracing, just to put the matter flat;
Therefore, where's the need to mention that we favor 'this' or 'that'?


Quite unlike the other party, we're so vigorous and hearty,
We can thrive on any diet, high or low.
And, if you decide to follow us, just notice what we swallow
Me an' Joe.
It is hardly worth while mentioning what Joseph can't digest,
And, when he has picked his dishes, I, with ease, absorb the rest.


While other folks are musing o'er the menu, picking, choosing,
In a fashion most fastidious and slow,
At embracing or surrounding - all the meal we are astounding
Me an' Joe.
As an economic method it admits no ifs or buts;
For we clean up all the courses from the oysters to the nuts.


Legislative indigestion in regard to any question
Marks the party whose vitality is low;
Weaklings in the estimation of that sturdy combination,
Me an' Joe.
For the food that is politically poisonous to me
Joe takes with relish, while - well, vice versa don't you see.


I can take, with little trouble, foods political that double
Joseph up, upon the floor, in direst woe;
But they all declare, who've seen us, we're omnivorous between us
Me an' Joe.
Joseph's fond of food imported with a dash of Tory sauce;
I love fare more democratic and Australian grown, of course.


Thus, observe, in fiscal matters we contrive to clean the platters.
'Tis surprising how we make the viands go!
With our dual constitution we can do great execution
Me an' Joe.
And the others of our party have such varied appetites
That there's really very little left to feed the cat o' nights.


For, the others at the table, watching us, are quickly able
To elect the food they fancy most - although
Some they find it hard to swallow in their brave attempts to follow
Me an' Joe.
Then a little Argus Syrup or some 'Mother 'Eralds Pills'
Are most useful in averting any gastronomic ills.


Gentlemen, 'twould only weary you to state in manner dreary,
That we favor 'this,' or 'that,' or 'so-and-so,'
When, as you well know who've seen us, we can scoff the lot between us
Me an' Joe.
And I warn you to be careful of that legislative group
Which has appetite for nothing but mere Democratic soup.


Such dyspeptic politicians are not fit for their positions;
They are weak and puny creatures: let them go;
And, whatever you adhere to, you can bet your cause is dear to
Me - or Joe.
For our iron constitution is a thing to marvel at,
And, when we 'ave dined, as I have said, there's little for the cat.

Now, a visitor from somewhere right outside this Mundane Ball
Do not ask me where he came from, for that point's not clear at all;
For he might have been an angel, or he might have come from Mars,
Or from any of the other of the fixed or unfixed stars.
As regards his mental make-up he was much like you or me;
And he toured about the country, just to see what he could see.

Well, this superhuman person was of most inquiring mind,
And 'twas noted, from his questions, he was very far from blind,
And the striking thing about him was his stern, compelling eye,
That demanded Truth ungarbled when he paused for a reply.
And, despite the mental wriggles of the folk he interviewed,
When they placed the Truth before him she was ab-so-lutely nude.

At our Civilised Society he stared in some amaze,
As he muttered his equivalent for 'Gosh!' or 'Spare me days!'
For our cherished modes and customs knocked him sideways, so to speak.
'To solve,' said he, 'this mystery, now whither shall I seek?
For a sane and sound solution I must question those on high,'
Said this extra-mundane being with the stern, compelling eye.

Now, his methods were intelligent - I confess,
For he started with our Politics, religion and the Press.
Thus, he read a morning paper through, intently, ev'ry leaf,
Then hied him out to interview the editor-in-chief:
'They say that Truth lives in a well,' he muttered as he went;
'But her well is not an inkwell, I will lay my last lone cent.'

It chanced he found the editor unguarded and alone
At the office of the paper - 'twas the MORNING MEGAPHONE.
'Now, I take it,' said the visitor, 'you represent the Press,
That great Public Educator?' And the pressman murmured, 'Yes.'
'Yet in yesterday's edition I perceived a glaring lie!
How's this?' He fixed the pressman with his stern, compelling eye.

Then the editor he stammered, and the editor he 'hemmed'
And muttered things like 'Gracious me!' and likewise, 'Well, I'm demned!'
But the lady Truth came tripping, all undressed and unashamed;
'Oh, I own it!' cried the editor. 'But how can I be blamed?
There's our blighted advertisers and our readers - Spare my grief!
But we've got to please the public!' moaned the editor-in-chief.

'Now to interview a statesman and consider his reply,'
Said this strange Select Committee with the stern, compelling eye.
And the Honorable Member for Mud Flat he chanced to find
In a noble Spring-street building of a most palatial kind.
And the Honorable Member viewed his visitor with awe,
For he surely had the most compelling eye you ever saw.

'Now, then, tell me,' said the visitor; 'you are a man of State,
And you blither on the platform of this Nation grand and great;
Of this noble Land's great destiny I've heard you talking hard,
But, whene'er it comes to voting, it's the 'claims' of your back yard.
Do you represent the Nation, as you often say you do,
Or a hen-roost or a cow-yard, or a parish-pump or two?'

Then the politician stuttered, and the politician stared,
But to voice his patriotic platitudes he felt too scared;
For the lady Truth insisted, and he blurted, 'It's the Votes!
You must blame the dashed electors when you see us turn our coats!
Our constituents control us. You must please remember that.
And we've got to please the public!' whined the Member for Mud Flat.

'Now to look into religion,' said the visitor, 'I'm told
I may get much information from a Wowser-of-the-Fold.'
And he sought him out a Wowser of the very sternest breed:
'Sweet Charity, they tell me, is the keynote of your creed.
And of mercy for the sinner, and of succor for the weak
>From the pulpit, on a Sunday, I have often heard you speak;
Yet Charity is turned to Spite, and Scorn becomes your creed
When they speak of giving bounty to weak Magadalene in need.'

Then the Wowser hesitated, and the Wowser rolled his eyes,
And sought in vain to call to mind some Wowserish replies.
But the lady truth came peeping, and the Wowser cried, 'O, Lor!'
And he hastily drew the blind and softly closed the door.
'She is naked!' gasped the Wowser. 'Oh, where are the hussy's clothes?
If my dear brethren saw me now! Oh, what do you suppose!'

'The Truth!' exclaimed the querist with the stern, compelling eye.
''Tis my flock!' exclaimed the Wowser. 'Oh, I cannot tell a lie!
My flock of virgins sour and chaste, and matrons undeceived,
They would hound me from the pulpit if I said what I believed!
I dot on notoriety! The Truth it must be told.
Oh, I've got to please my public!' moaned the Wowser-of-the-Fold.

'Now, this Public; I must nail it,' said the queer Inquisitor.
''Tis the favor of this mighty god they all seem eager for;
And they always strive to please him, and his sentiments express
In their Parliaments and Pulpits and their organs of the Press.
And I'll get a sure solution if I hvae the luck to meet -
What is this he's called? - the Man, or Bloque, or Fellow-in-the-Street.'

A Fellow-in-the-Street was found, and typical was he,
An eager hunter of the thing that men call £. s. d.
He wore a strained expression on his features, dull and flat,
Also bifurcated coat-tails, and a little hard round hat.
His talk was mainly platitutdes, when it wasn't shop or horse,
And he had some fixed opinions and a bank account, of course.

'Now, then, tell me,' said the visitant, 'What are you private views
On you Politics, Religion and the Sheet that gives you news?
I have heard a lot about you, and a deal I'd like to know
Of why you work, and what you think, and where you hope to go.
I feel assured that I shall find the Truth in your reply.'
And he fixed the foolish Fellow with his stern, compelling eye.

The Fellow hemmed and hawed a bit, the Fellow looked about,
And the lady Truth smiled sweetly while he murmured, as in doubt.
'Well, re-al-ly, my views upon those things I can't express.
You must ask our Politicians and the Parsons and the Press.
But as for me - well, candidly, you've got me off my beat;
For I don't know much about it!' said the Fellow-in-the-Street.

''Tis the Circle!' cried the visitor. ''Tis the same old crazy game
Right through the trackless Milky Way to there from whence I came.
The Earth is round, the Moon is round, and Jupitre and Mars,
Their orbit's all, and Saturn's rings, and countless million stars.
All throughout the constellations I have journeyed, to and fro,
But ev'rything goes round and round no matter where I go.
All the Universe is circles! All one tantalising twirl!
Oh, is there nothing straight or square in all this cosmic whirl?

And with these strange and cryptic words the Being fled afar,
Back to his native hiding-place - his fixed or unfixed star.
Some say his name was 'Reason,' other hold 'twas 'Intellect':
But as for me I have no views to voice in that respect.
His motives seemed mysterious; I know not how nor why;
I only know he had a stern and most compelling eye.