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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BANGKOLIDYE, by BARRY PAIN Poet's Biography First Line: Gimme my scarlet tie' Last Line: Says I. Subject(s): Clothing & Dress; Cynicism | |||
"GIMME my scarlet tie," Says I. "Gimme my brownest boots and hat, Gimme a vest with a pattern fancy, Gimme a gel with some style, like Nancy, And then -- well, it's gimes as I'll be at, Seein' as its bangkolidye," Says I. "May miss it, but we'll try," Says I. Nancy ran like a frightened 'en Hup the steps of the bloomin' styeshun. Bookin'-orfus at last! Salvyeshun! An' the two returns was five-and-ten. "An' travellin' mikes your money fly," Says I. "This atmosphere is 'igh," Says I. Twelve in a carriage is pretty thick, When 'ite of the twelve is a sittin', smokin'; Nancy started 'er lawkin, and jokin', Syin' she 'oped as we shouldn't be sick; "Don't go on, or you'll mike me die!" Says I. "Three styeshuns we've porst by," Says I. "So hout we get at the next, my gel." When we got hout, she wer pale and saint-like, White in the gills, and sorter faint-like, An' said my cigaw 'ad a powerful smell, "Well, it's the sime as I always buy," Says I. "'Ites them clouds in the sky," Says I. "Don't like 'em at all," I says, "that's flat -- Black as your boots and sorter thick'nin'." "If it's wet," says she, "it will be sick'nin'. I wish as I'd brought my other 'at." "You thinks too much of your finery," Says I. "Keep them sanwidjus dry," Says I, When the rine came down in a reggiler sheet. But what can yo do with one umbrella, And a damp gel strung on the arm of a fella? "Well, rined-on 'am ain't pleasant to eat, If yer don't believe it, just go an try." Says I. "There is some gels whort cry," Says I. "And there is some don't shed a tear, But just get tempers, and when they has'em Reaches a pint in their sarcasem, As on'y a dorg could bear to 'ear." This unto Nancy by-and-by, Says I. All's hover now. And why, Says I. But why did I wear them boots, that vest? The bloom is off 'em; they're sad to see; And hev'rythin's off twixt Nancy and me; And my trousers is off and gone to be pressed -- And ain't this a blimed bangkolidye? Says I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KING OF SPAIN by MAXWELL BODENHEIM YOUTH AND ART by ROBERT BROWNING GOOD AND BAD LUCK by HEINRICH HEINE THE PESSIMIST by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING WITHOUT AND WITHIN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM by ROBERT SOUTHEY NORTHERN FARMER, NEW STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON BALLAD: THE THINGS OF NO ACCOUNT by FRANCOIS VILLON MARTIN LUTHER AT POTTSDAM by BARRY PAIN |
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