A BALLADE OF AN ANTI-PURITAN

     
     
           They spoke of Progress spiring round,
     Of Light and Mrs. Humphry Ward—
     It is not true to say I frowned,
     Or ran about the room and roared;
     I might have simply sat and snored—
     I rose politely in the club
     And said, “I feel a little bored;
     Will someone take me to a pub?”
           The new world's wisest did surround
     Me; and it pains me to record
     I did not think their views profound,
     Or their conclusions well assured;
     The simple life I can't afford,
     Besides, I do not like the grub—
     I wait a mash and sausage, “scored”—
     Will someone take me to a pub?
           I know where Men can still be found,
     Anger and clamorous accord,
     And virtues growing from the ground,
     And fellowship of beer and board,
     And song, that is a sturdy cord.
     And hope, that is a hardy shrub,
     And goodness, that is God's last word—
     Will someone take me to a pub?
           ENVOI
           Prince, Bayard would have smashed his sword
     To see the sort of knights you dub—Is
     that the last of them—O Lord!
     Will someone take me to a pub?