by Edith Sitwell (1887 - 1964)

Four in the morning
Language: English 
Cried the navy-blue ghost
of Mr. Belaker
The allegro negro cocktail-shaker:
Why did the cock crow,
Why am I lost
Down the endless road
to Infinity toss'd'?
The tropical leaves
are whispering white as water:
I race the wind in my flight down
the promenade, -
Edging the far-off sand
Is the foam of the sirens'
Metropole and Grand,-
As I raced through the leaves
as white as water
My ghost flowed over a nursemaid,
caught her,
And there I saw the long grass weep,
Where tile guinea-fowl plumaged
houses sleep
And the sweet ring-doves
of curded milk
Watch the Infanta's gown of silk
the ghost-room tall
where the governante
Whispers slyly fading andante
In at the window then looked he,
The navy-blue ghost of Mr. Belaker,
The allegro negro cocktail-shaker,-
And his flattened face like the moon
saw she,-
Rhinoceros-black yet flowing like
the sea.

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First published in Vogue, London, December 1924, revised 1950

Text Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):


Researcher for this page: Dan Eggleston

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 34
Word count: 145