Those Two Impostors
So there I was, a Son of Martha,
Making my way in the world.
I knew that I could keep my head
’Gainst any Brown Bess girl.
But that was ere I met my match
With Triumph and Disaster –
A pair of Ladies of Many Dreams
As clever as Aggie de Castrer.
They played my heart for pitch & toss,
With a swish of skirt in the dew –
With broken dinner knives, they dug,
To plant their roses blue.
Why did I go with the grey widow-maker
Upon my young-man’s feet ?
Oh, how I wish I’d walked by myself,
Where never the twain shall meet.
But I shall hang from the highest hill
On the road to Mandalay.
How far is St Helena now
From a lonely shilling-a-day ?
But no – don’t deal in lies –
For if a dog has torn my heart,
As it’s moving up and down again,
It’s just because I gladly played my part.
Don’t let cold iron be my master
While the gentlemen go by –
For the female of the species
Is a better man than I.
Rhyming Couplets 