The bashful Arides
Has married an ugly wife,
He was bored with his manner of life,
Indifferent and discouraged he thought he might as
...
Red knights, brown bishops, bright queens,
Striking the board, falling in strong ‘L's of
colour.
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On the loan exhibit of his paintings at the Tate Gallery.
You also, our first great,
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BALLAD FOR THE TIMES' SPECIAL SILVER NUMBER
Sez the Times a silver lining
Is what has set us pining,
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Aye! I am a poet and upon my tomb
Shall maidens scatter rose leaves
And men myrtles, ere the night
Slays day with her dark sword.
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1 his papier-mâché, which you see, my friends,
Saith 'twas the worthiest of editors.
Its mind was made up in 'the seventies',
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The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
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O helpless few in my country, remnant enslaved!
Artists broken against her,
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The pomps of butchery, financial power,
Told 'em to die in war, and then to save,
Then cut their saving to the half or lower;
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