Read Ebook: Songs of a Savoyard by Gilbert W S William Schwenck

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Ebook has 338 lines and 19847 words, and 7 pages

When a felon's not engaged in his employment, Or maturing his felonious little plans, His capacity for innocent enjoyment Is just as great as any honest man's. Our feelings we with difficulty smother When constabulary duty's to be done: Ah, take one consideration with another, A policeman's lot is not a happy one!

When the enterprising burglar isn't burgling, When the cut-throat isn't occupied in crime, He loves to hear the little brook a-gurgling, And listen to the merry village chime. When the coster's finished jumping on his mother, He loves to lie a-basking in the sun: Ah, take one consideration with another, The policeman's lot is not a happy one!

Ballad: The Baffled Grumbler

Whene'er I poke Sarcastic joke Replete with malice spiteful, The people vile Politely smile And vote me quite delightful! Now, when a wight Sits up all night Ill-natured jokes devising, And all his wiles Are met with smiles, It's hard, there's no disguising! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong, And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at!

When German bands, From music stands Play Wagner imperFECTly - I bid them go - They don't say no, But off they trot directly! The organ boys They stop their noise With readiness surprising, And grinning herds Of hurdy-gurds Retire apologising! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong, And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at!

I've offered gold, In sums untold, To all who'd contradict me - I've said I'd pay A pound a day To any one who kicked me - I've bribed with toys Great vulgar boys To utter something spiteful, But, bless you, no! They WILL be so Confoundedly politeful! In short, these aggravating lads, They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads, They give me this and they give me that, And I've nothing whatever to grumble at!

Ballad: The House Of Peers

When Britain really ruled the waves - The House of Peers made no pretence To intellectual eminence, Or scholarship sublime; Yet Britain won her proudest bays In good Queen Bess's glorious days!

When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well; Yet Britain set the world ablaze In good King George's glorious days!

And while the House of Peers withholds Its legislative hand, And noble statesmen do not itch To interfere with matters which They do not understand, As bright will shine Great Britain's rays, As in King George's glorious days!

Ballad: A Merry Madrigal

Brightly dawns our wedding day; Joyous hour, we give thee greeting! Whither, whither art thou fleeting? Fickle moment, prithee stay! What though mortal joys be hollow? Pleasures come, if sorrows follow. Though the tocsin sound, ere long, Ding dong! Ding dong! Yet until the shadows fall Over one and over all, Sing a merry madrigal - Fal la!

Let us dry the ready tear; Though the hours are surely creeping, Little need for woeful weeping Till the sad sundown is near. All must sip the cup of sorrow, I to-day and thou to-morrow: This the close of every song - Ding dong! Ding dong! What though solemn shadows fall, Sooner, later, over all? Sing a merry madrigal - Fal la!

Ballad: The Duke And The Duchess

Small titles and orders For Mayors and Recorders I get - and they're highly delighted. M.P.s baronetted, Sham Colonels gazetted, And second-rate Aldermen knighted. Foundation-stone laying I find very paying, It adds a large sum to my makings. At charity dinners The best of speech-spinners, I get ten per cent on the takings!

I present any lady Whose conduct is shady Or smacking of doubtful propriety; When Virtue would quash her I take and whitewash her And launch her in first-rate society. I recommend acres Of clumsy dressmakers - Their fit and their finishing touches; A sum in addition They pay for permission To say that they make for the Duchess!

Those pressing prevailers, The ready-made tailors, Quote me as their great double-barrel; I allow them to do so, Though ROBINSON CRUSOE Would jib at their wearing apparel! I sit, by selection, Upon the direction Of several Companies bubble; As soon as they're floated I'm freely bank-noted - I'm pretty well paid for my trouble!

At middle-class party I play at ECARTE - And I'm by no means a beginner; To one of my station The remuneration - Five guineas a night and my dinner. I write letters blatant On medicines patent - And use any other you mustn't; And vow my complexion Derives its perfection From somebody's soap - which it doesn't.

We're ready as witness To any one's fitness To fill any place or preferment; We're often in waiting At junket FETING, And sometimes attend an interment. In short, if you'd kindle The spark of a swindle, Lure simpletons into your clutches, Or hoodwink a debtor, You cannot do better Than trot out a Duke or a Duchess!

Ballad: Eheu Fugaces -!

The air is charged with amatory numbers - Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays. Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers The aching memory of the old, old days?

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted; Time was when we walked ever hand in hand; A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted, None better loved than I in all the land! Time was, when maidens of the noblest station, Forsaking even military men, Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration - Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled; Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear; Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled; And when I coughed all thought the end was near! I had no care - no jealous doubts hung o'er me - For I was loved beyond all other men. Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me - Ah me, I was a pale young curate then!

Ballad: They'll None Of 'Em Be Missed

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found, I've got a little list - I've got a little list Of social offenders who might well be underground, And who never would be missed - who never would be missed! There's the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs - All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs - All children who are up in dates, and floor you with 'em flat - All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like THAT - And all third persons who on spoiling TETE-E-TETES insist - They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!

There's the nigger serenader, and the others of his race, And the piano organist - I've got him on the list! And the people who eat peppermint and puff it in your face, They never would be missed - they never would be missed! Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone, All centuries but this, and every country but his own; And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy, And who "doesn't think she waltzes, but would rather like to try"; And that FIN-DE-SIECLE anomaly, the scorching motorist - I don't think he'd be missed - I'm SURE he'd not be missed!

And that NISI PRIUS nuisance, who just now is rather rife, The Judicial humorist - I've got HIM on the list! All funny fellows, comic men, and clowns of private life - They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed! And apologetic statesmen of the compromising kind, Such as - What-d'ye-call-him - Thing'em-Bob, and likewise - Never- mind, And 'St - 'st - 'st - and What's-his-name, and also - You-know-who - But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list, For they'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!

Ballad: Girl Graduates

They intend to send a wire To the moon; And they'll set the Thames on fire Very soon; Then they learn to make silk purses With their rigs From the ears of LADY CIRCE'S Piggy-wigs. And weasels at their slumbers They'll trepan; To get sunbeams from cuCUMbers They've a plan. They've a firmly rooted notion They can cross the Polar Ocean, And they'll find Perpetual Motion If they can!

These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee!

As for fashion, they forswear it, So they say, And the circle - they will square it Some fine day; Then the little pigs they're teaching For to fly; And the niggers they'll be bleaching By-and-by! Each newly joined aspirant To the clan Must repudiate the tyrant Known as Man; They mock at him and flout him, For they do not care about him, And they're "going to do without him" If they can!

These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee!

Ballad: Braid The Raven Hair

Braid the raven hair, Weave the supple tress, Deck the maiden fair In her loveliness; Paint the pretty face, Dye the coral lip, Emphasise the grace Of her ladyship! Art and nature, thus allied, Go to make a pretty bride!

Sit with downcast eye, Let it brim with dew; Try if you can cry, We will do so, too. When you're summoned, start Like a frightened roe; Flutter, little heart, Colour, come and go! Modesty at marriage tide Well becomes a pretty bride!

Ballad: The Working Monarch

Rising early in the morning, We proceed to light the fire, Then our Majesty adorning In its work-a-day attire, We embark without delay On the duties of the day.

First, we polish off some batches Of political despatches, And foreign politicians circumvent; Then, if business isn't heavy, We may hold a Royal LEVEE, Or ratify some Acts of Parliament: Then we probably review the household troops - With the usual "Shalloo humps" and "Shalloo hoops!" Or receive with ceremonial and state An interesting Eastern Potentate. After that we generally Go and dress our private VALET -

- Write some letters literary For our private secretary - Then, in view of cravings inner, We go down and order dinner; Or we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate - Spend an hour in titivating All our Gentlemen-in-Waiting; Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State. Oh, philosophers may sing Of the troubles of a King, Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great; But the privilege and pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State!

After luncheon , If we've nothing in particular to do, We may make a Proclamation, Or receive a Deputation - Then we possibly create a Peer or two. Then we help a fellow-creature on his path With the Garter or the Thistle or the Bath: Or we dress and toddle off in semi-State To a festival, a function, or a FETE. Then we go and stand as sentry At the Palace , Marching hither, marching thither, up and down and to and fro, While the warrior on duty Goes in search of beer and beauty . He relieves us, if he's able, Just in time to lay the table.

Then we dine and serve the coffee; and at half-past twelve or one, With a pleasure that's emphatic; Then we seek our little attic With the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done. Oh, philosophers may sing Of the troubles of a King, But of pleasures there are many and of troubles there are none; And the culminating pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!

Ballad: The Ape And The Lady

A LADY fair, of lineage high, Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by - The Maid was radiant as the sun, The Ape was a most unsightly one - So it would not do - His scheme fell through; For the Maid, when his love took formal shape, Expressed such terror At his monstrous error, That he stammered an apology and made his 'scape, The picture of a disconcerted Ape.

With a view to rise in the social scale, He shaved his bristles, and he docked his tail, He grew moustachios, and he took his tub, And he paid a guinea to a toilet club. But it would not do, The scheme fell through - For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen, With golden tresses, Like a real princess's, While the Ape, despite his razor keen, Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen!

He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits, He crammed his feet into bright tight boots, And to start his life on a brand-new plan, He christened himself Darwinian Man! But it would not do, The scheme fell through - For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey craved, Was a radiant Being, With a brain far-seeing - While a Man, however well-behaved, At best is only a monkey shaved!

Ballad: Only Roses

To a garden full of posies Cometh one to gather flowers; And he wanders through its bowers Toying with the wanton roses, Who, uprising from their beds, Hold on high their shameless heads With their pretty lips a-pouting, Never doubting - never doubting That for Cytherean posies He would gather aught but roses.

In a nest of weeds and nettles, Lay a violet, half hidden; Hoping that his glance unbidden Yet might fall upon her petals. Though she lived alone, apart, Hope lay nestling at her heart, But, alas! the cruel awaking Set her little heart a-breaking, For he gathered for his posies Only roses - only roses!

Ballad: The Rover's Apology

Oh, gentlemen, listen, I pray; Though I own that my heart has been ranging, Of nature the laws I obey, For nature is constantly changing. The moon in her phases is found, The time and the wind and the weather, The months in succession come round, And you don't find two Mondays together. Consider the moral, I pray, Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow, Who loves this young lady to-day, And loves that young lady to-morrow!

You cannot eat breakfast all day. Nor is it the act of a sinner, When breakfast is taken away, To turn your attention to dinner; And it's not in the range of belief That you could hold him as a glutton, Who, when he is tired of beef, Determines to tackle the mutton. But this I am ready to say, If it will diminish their sorrow, I'll marry this lady to-day, And I'll marry that lady to-morrow!

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