Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, STRIKE OF THE LONDON CABMEN, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

STRIKE OF THE LONDON CABMEN, by                    
First Line: Oh! Here's a great and glorious row
Last Line: All through the strike of the cabmen
Subject(s): Driving & Drivers;labor Unions;london;strikes; Labor Disputes;lockouts


Oh! here's a great and glorious row,
All over London, sirs, I vow,
A few words of which I'll tell you now,
The strike of the London cabmen.
Some days ago they pass'd an Act,
About the cabs -- it is a fact,
Which made old swells and codgers smile,
That they should ride a tanner a mile;
And if not pleased, then all around
The cabmen had to measure the ground,
And that's the reason, I'll be bound,
Has caused the strike of the cabmen.

Chorus

Cut him, slash him, here's a go,
All over town, come up, gee wo,
The law was hard you well do know,
So strike did the London cabmen.

On Tuesday last, oh! what a sight,
The thing was done and all was right,
Just at the hour of twelve at night,
All strike did the London cabmen.
There was not a cab upon the ground,
And never a cabman to be found,
Swells and cripples on did steer,
A singing out oh! dear, oh! dear,
They did not know there was a strike,
They bawl'd and squall'd with all their might,
They hunted up and down all night,
And could not find a cabman.

* * *

While coming home from Drury Lane,
I tumbled over Bet and Jane,
Who said the Act was much to blame,
To cause the strike of the cabmen.
Indeed! indeed! said lovely Kate,
I know they all gave in their plates
And told their masters they would go
To dwell in South Australia, O.
Behold how dismal is the streets,
No cab or carriage can we meet
And we must travel on our feet
All through the strike of the cabmen.

Now if it comes a thunder shower,
If it rains or if it pours,
You may be about the street for hours
And never find a cabman,
And won't it too make many fret,
To see the ladies' muslin wet,
And see them through the streets to scud
With their back behinds all covered with mud,
And won't it cause them to bewail,
To wash their dirty petticoat tails,
'Cause through the dirt they have to trail,
All through the strike of the cabmen.





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