: The Song Book of Quong Lee of Limehouse by Burke Thomas - Poetry

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Buying and Selling The Power of Music The Lamplighter In Reply to an Invitation A Night-Piece A Smile Given In Passing Of a National Cash Register Under a Shining Window Exchange of Compliments A Song of Little Girls Of Shop Windows At the Feast of Lanterns One Service Breeds Another An Offer of a Lodging Of Two Dwellings Concerning English Gambling Of Politicians Of the Great White War At the Time of Clear Weather Parent and Child Of Worship and Conduct Going to Market A Portrait On a Saying of Mencius Dockside Noises Reproof and Approbation The Feast of Go Nien Directions for Making Tea Of Inaccessible Beauty Night and Day Of a Night in War-Time A Love Lesson A Rebuke Upstairs Footsteps Making a Feast The Case of Ho Ling An Upright Man Breaking-Point An English Gentleman

Buying and Selling

Throughout the day I sit behind the counter of my shop And the odours of my country are all about me-- Areca nut, and betel leaf, and manioc, Lychee and suey sen, Li-un and dried seaweed, Tchah and sam-shu; And these carry my mind to half-forgotten days When tales were plentiful and care was hard to hold.

All day I sell for trifling sums the wares of my own land, And buy for many cash such things as people wish to sell, That I may sell them again to others, With some profit to myself.

One night a white-skinned damsel came to me And offered, with fair words, something she wished to sell.

Now if I desire a jacket I can buy it with coin, Or barter for it something of my stock. If I desire rice-spirit, that, too, I can buy; And elegant entertainments and delights are all to be had for cash.

But there is one good thing above all precious, That no man may buy. And though I buy readily most things that I desire, This thing that the white maid offered at my own price I would not buy.

The Power of Music

In the little room behind my shop I refresh myself of an evening with my machine-that-sings.

Two songs has my machine-that-sings: And these are 'Hitchy Koo' and 'We don't want to lose you.'

When, in the evening, a friend honours me with a visit, I engage his ears with the air of 'Hitchy Koo'; But when I am afflicted with a visit From those who fill me with a spirit of no-satisfaction, I command my machine-that-sings To render the music of 'We don't want to lose you.'

The noise that at this moment greets the ear Of the elegant visitor to this despicable hovel Is the incomparable music of 'Hitchy Koo'; And the price of this person's tea, mister, Is but a paltry six shillings the pound.

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