Special-Constable

"PUT out that light!" he cried.

But no one put it out.

No one replied,

And silence gulped his husky shout.

Against the door he blundered,

Knocked-but no one came.

Wrathful, he wondered;

"What's their number? What's their name?”

And the moon above the town

Through wisps of cloud looked down

On roofs and cowls

And cats and constables and owls.

He clutched his truncheon tight,

For he was bold that night,

And hurled it high

Up at the lit and lawless sky.

He bawled: "Then go to Hell!"
And, reeling home to bed,

Blue brilliance fell

From moons that danced within his head.

The Choral Union

HE staggered in from night and frost and fog,
And lampless streets: he'd guzzled like a hog,
And drunk till he was dazed; and now he came
To hear he couldn't call to mind the name,-

But he'd been given a ticket for the show,
And thought he'd (hiccup) chance his luck and go.

The hall swam in his eyes, and soaring light
Was dazzling-splendid after the dank night.
He sat and blinked, safe in his cushioned seat,
And licked his lips; he'd like a brandy, neat.

"Who is the King of Glory?" they were sayingHe pricked his ears; what was it? Were they

By God, it might be Heaven! For singers stood Ranked in pure white; and everyone seemed good;

And clergymen were sitting meekly round
With joyful faces, drinking in the sound;
And holy women, and plump, whiskered men.
Could this be Heaven? And was he dead?

They all stood up; the mighty chorus broke
In storms of song above those blameless folk;
And "Hallelujah, Hallelujah!" rang

The burden of the triumph that they sang.

and then

He gasped; it must be true; he'd got to Heaven
With all his sins that seventy times were seven;
And whispering "Hallelujah," mid their shout,

He wondered when Lord God would turn him out.

Liquor-Control

[TO RODERICK MEIKLEJOHN]

IN the time of the war with the Philistine,
Solomon uttered a law that said:

"Down with the Sign of the Saracen's Head,
"Shut up the Star and the Sun and the Vine!"

Then the King went in to his glimmering dames
And called the roll of their languorous names;
But the Moon-faced Lily, the pearl divine,
Swooned and implored, and was sick for wine.

Down in the harem something stirred,
But none of the eunuchs whispered a word.
Glug, glug, glug! the concubines poured
Warm wet liquor in health to their lord.