Oh, what is this unearthly noise, That sends affright thro' all the city! They call it music -- jovial boys, Just throwing off a lively ditty. The coach a sorry dragon seems; The grays their every rib may tell; Ill-favored kine of Phar'oh's dreams, Would scarce be found a parallel. The idle crowd will stand and gaze, The untied horses start and run; The dogs will howl as in a maze, The wags pronounce it best of fun. A din of sounds -- a wild confusion, From horn and trombone madly flung; To quiet life a rude intrusion, Yet "b'hoys" must "go it" while unhung. Then lash the horses to a trot, And bang away in loudest thunder -- No matter who is pleased or not -- Till every ear is split asunder. Let stunning echoes rend the air, Let every pipe send forth a bray; Blow hard, no matter how or where, For every dog must have his day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GASCOIGNE'S GOOD MORROW by GEORGE GASCOIGNE THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 48 by OMAR KHAYYAM A LEAVE-TAKING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE CONTENT; WRITTEN OFF ITHACA by ALFRED AUSTIN HERE ENTER NOT by KATHARINE CANBY BALDERSTON |