Bow Bells : Five London Silhouettes

Up an' down the street I goes
Advertisin' pleasure shows,
In the drizzlin' dampin' rain,
Down the street an' back again.

Grumblin' to meself all day,
Toilin' on while others play,
Watchin' folks go smilin' by,
Feelin' blue an' wond'rin' why.

Then she brings my can o' tea,
Lizzie does an' talks to me,
An' I know though folks look fine,
None has got a lass like mine!

Lunnon is a big place,
Lots o' people in it,
Heaps o' folks a-toilin'
Every single minute;
Everybody's movin',
Comin' or a-goin',
Sort o' makes me giddy -
Takes a lot o' knowin'.

Lunnon is a fine place,
Often 'mid its noises
Think about the country
And the quiet voices;
Dream about a cottage,
Lips that wait to kiss me,
Hear the children's laughter -
Wonder if they miss me.

Down the street the flower girls
Lilac sprays are sellin',
Makes me think in passin'
How the country's smellin';
Have to stop and buy some -
(Wish my heart would harden!)
Just because the lilac
Grows in mother's garden.

Up Ludgate Hill the horses
Toil slowly in the rain,
They pull the creaking waggon,
They drag the heavy wain.

With eyes of patient wonder
Their weary way they go,
While musing on some Heaven
That only horses know.

They dream within the turmoil
That some day work will cease,
The city is for striving,
The country is for peace.

My lass was christened Florence, but folks all call 'er Liz;
It seems to suit 'er better, though I don't know how it is:
You couldn't call 'er stylish, and she mayn't be very fair,
     But she's got such a way with 'er!

She's got the sort of lips that smile your moods away,
She's just the kind of laugh that makes a feller gay,
Her kiss is that infectious that yer neither know nor care,
     Oh! she's got such a way with 'er!

She's not the one to talk a lot of lover yer see,
And if a feller wants to sulk why then she lets him be,
She'll happen poke the fire a bit an' leave 'is slippers there -
     Oh! she's got such a way with 'er!

The blue sky of Naples is radiant to-day,
It is not so restful or soft as the grey -
I wearied of England, but till I crossed the sea
I did not know how dear was its grey sky to me.