Anglicised Utopia
Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses,
Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.
(Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.)
No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;
For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.
(That's a maxim that is prevalent in England.)
No Peeress at our Drawing-Room before the Presence passes
Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower-middle classes;
Each shady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out neatly.
In short, this happy country has been Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
Our city we have beautified - we've done it willy-nilly -
And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand and Piccadilly.
(They haven't any slummeries in England.)
We have solved the labour question with discrimination polished,
So poverty is obsolete and hunger is abolished -
(They are going to abolish it in England.)
The Chamberlain our native stage has purged, beyond a question,
Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly -
In short, this happy country has been Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
Our Peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,
Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races -
(They are going to remodel it in England.)
The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek admission,
And Literary Merit meets with proper recognition -
(As Literary Merit does in England!)
Who knows but we may count among our intellectual chickens
Like them an Earl of Thackeray and p'raps a Duke of Dickens -
Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come) we'll welcome
sweetly -
And then, this happy country will be Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
Peter The Wag
POLICEMAN PETER FORTH I drag
From his obscure retreat:
He was a merry genial wag,
Who loved a mad conceit.
If he were asked the time of day,
By country bumpkins green,
He not unfrequently would say,
"A quarter past thirteen."
If ever you by word of mouth
Inquired of MISTER FORTH
The way to somewhere in the South,
He always sent you North.
With little boys his beat along
He loved to stop and play;
He loved to send old ladies wrong,
And teach their feet to stray.
He would in frolic moments, when
Such mischief bent upon,
Take Bishops up as betting men -
Bid Ministers move on.
Then all the worthy boys he knew
He regularly licked,
And always collared people who
Had had their pockets picked.
He was not naturally bad,
Or viciously inclined,
But from his early youth he had
A waggish turn of mind.
The Men of London grimly scowled
With indignation wild;
The Men of London gruffly growled,
But PETER calmly smiled.
Against this minion of the Crown
The swelling murmurs grew -
From Camberwell to Kentish Town -
From Rotherhithe to Kew.
Still humoured he his wagsome turn,
And fed in various ways
The coward rage that dared to burn,
But did not dare to blaze.
Still, Retribution has her day,
Although her flight is slow:
ONE DAY THAT CRUSHER LOST HIS WAY
NEAR POLAND STREET, SOHO.
The haughty boy, too proud to ask,
To find his way resolved,
And in the tangle of his task
Got more and more involved.
The Men of London, overjoyed,
Came there to jeer their foe,
And flocking crowds completely cloyed
The mazes of Soho.
The news on telegraphic wires
Sped swiftly o'er the lea,
Excursion trains from distant shires
Brought myriads to see.
For weeks he trod his self-made beats
Through Newport- Gerrard- Bear-
Greek- Rupert- Frith- Dean- Poland- Streets,
And into Golden Square.
But all, alas! in vain, for when
He tried to learn the way
Of little boys or grown-up men,
They none of them would say.
Their eyes would flash - their teeth would grind -
Their lips would tightly curl -
They'd say, "Thy way thyself must find,
Thou misdirecting churl!"
And, similarly, also, when
He tried a foreign friend;
Italians answered, "IL BALEN" -
The French, "No comprehend."
The Russ would say with gleaming eye
" Sevastopol!" and groan.
The Greek said, [GREEK TEXT WHICH CANNOT
BE REPRODUCED]."
To wander thus for many a year
That Crusher never ceased -
The Men of London dropped a tear,
Their anger was appeased.
At length exploring gangs were sent
To find poor FORTH'S remains -
A handsome grant by Parliament
Was voted for their pains.
To seek the poor policeman out
Bold spirits volunteered,
And when they swore they'd solve the doubt,
The Men of London cheered.
And in a yard, dark, dank, and drear,
They found him, on the floor -
It leads from Richmond Buildings - near
The Royalty stage-door.
With brandy cold and brandy hot
They plied him, starved and wet,
And made him sergeant on the spot -
The Men of London's pet!
