 | The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland |  |
53
Shepherd's Bush
Preposterous stucco, naughty ropes of light,
The drunken drone of twenty-two brass bands,
A flip-flap, and some hokey-pokey stands;
Smith on your left, and Lipton on your right,
And Lyons, Lyons, Lyons; and that bright
Particular marvel, which, be sure, commands
Respect from fools of all and sundry brands—
The Press Lord Harmsworth prints from every night.
The drunken drone of twenty-two brass bands,
A flip-flap, and some hokey-pokey stands;
Smith on your left, and Lipton on your right,
And Lyons, Lyons, Lyons; and that bright
Particular marvel, which, be sure, commands
Respect from fools of all and sundry brands—
The Press Lord Harmsworth prints from every night.
Here, noble London, dost thou prowl and yell,
Or cause to disappear with horrid zest
The meat and drink provided by the Jew;
Here flickereth they paltry, shadowful hell—
And like a silver feather in the West,
And fair as fair, the moon that Dido knew!
Or cause to disappear with horrid zest
The meat and drink provided by the Jew;
Here flickereth they paltry, shadowful hell—
And like a silver feather in the West,
And fair as fair, the moon that Dido knew!
| The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | |