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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357704" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nocturne</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm standin' at the corner uv the Lane <br>The Land called Spadgers - waiting fer 'is jills.<br>The night's come chilly, an' a drizzlin' rain<br>Falls steady where a near-by street lamp spills<br>A gashly yeller light on stones all wet,<br>An' makes the darkest corners darker yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Them darkest corners! 'Struth! Wot ain't I 'eard<br>Uv dark deeds done there in the olden days,<br>When crooks inticed some silly sozzled bird<br>Upstage, an' dealt with 'im in unkind ways <br>Bashed 'im with bottles, woodened 'im with boots.<br>Spadgers was rood to flush an' festive coots.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If you are flush in Spadgers, 'tain't good form<br>To git too festive, if you valyer thrift.<br>To flash yer gilt an' go the pace too warm<br>Might make the Lane regard yeh as a gift.<br>Ther's nothin' loose they're likely to ferget;<br>An' all yeh've left is 'eadache an' regret.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lestwise, that's 'ow it used to be. They say<br>The Lane's reformed, an' took to honest trade.<br>An' so yeh'd think, to see it uv a day,<br>All prim an' proper. But when ev'nin's shade<br>Comes down, an' fools as stacks uv beans to spill,<br>Why, 'umin nacher's 'urnin nacher still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Don't git me wrong. An' jist in case you might<br>Misjudge the gents 'oo plys their callin' there,<br>In Spadgers darkest corners uv a night,<br>Wot time a shikkered mug 'as gonce to spare,<br>I'd jist ixplain they takes their point uv view<br>Frum diff'rint angles to sich birds as you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">F'rinstance, s'posin' blokes like me an' you<br>('Oo is raspectabil, I 'ope) should see<br>Some prodigal all 'eadin' fer to do<br>A one-ack 'Road to Ruin' tragedy,<br>Would we jist let 'im flop before our eyes<br>Or, bein' decint 'umins, put 'im wise?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would we not try to 'alt the wayward feet<br>Uv this 'ere errin' brother with a word<br>Before 'is moril knock-out was complete?<br>O' course we would. Advice is cheap, I've 'eard.<br>When sinners miss the step ther's few men ain't<br>Itchin' like 'ell to preach, an' be a saint.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, s'pose again, the Lane should see a bloke<br>Dead keen to splash around 'is surplis wealth<br>On rapid livin' till 'e's bust an' broke<br>An' rooned in repitation an' in 'ealth,<br>Do they tork empty words, an' let 'im go,<br>Jist for a chance to say, 'I tole yeh so!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not them. They say, ' 'Ere is a wasteful coot<br>'Oo will be sorry ere tamorrer's sun.'<br>Per meejim, then, uv bottle or uv boot<br>They learn 'im wisdom, an' 'is sinful fun<br>Is ended. An', for quick results, their style<br>'As all yer preachin' beaten be a mile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quick-action missionaries, you might say.<br>When they sees some stray sheep inclined to roam<br>An' chuck 'is 'ealth an' character away,<br>They takes stern measures for to lead 'im 'ome.<br>An', if they reaps some profits at the game,<br>Well, 'oo are me an' you to sling 'em blame?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm standin' at the corner uv the Lane<br>Toyin' with sich thorts idly, when I spys<br>A furtive coot come sloushin' through the rain<br>An' stop to size me up with sidelong eyes.<br>An' then 'e chats me, with the punkest tale<br>That ever got a bad man into jail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I s'pose me face ain't clear in that 'arf-dark,<br>Or else 'e was near-sighted. An' I s'pose<br>I mighter seemed to 'im a easy mark <br>Me in me farmer's 'at an' country clo'es.<br>But, strike, it 'urt me pride to think that 'e<br>Would try to ring that old, old dope on me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On me! 'Is make-up fairly yelled 'is trade,<br>Brandin' 'im plain a low-down city gun.<br>The simple country mug was never made<br>'0o'd wear sich duds. It was all overdone:<br>'Is moleskin pants, 'is carpet-bag, 'is beard <br>Like some cheap stage comeejin 'e appeared.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hey, mate,' 'e w'ispers. 'Could yeh do a bloke<br>A little favor? Listen - on the square <br>I've done me tin. I'm bottle-green, dead broke,<br>An' can't git 'ome. I 'aven't got me fare.<br>But 'ere's me watch - reel gold - belong to Dad.<br>Lend us a fiver on it, will yeh, lad?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A reel gold watch! Oh, 'elp! They worked that lay<br>When I was jist a barefoot kid. 'Twas old<br>When cheap-jacks sweated for their 'ard-earned pay<br>At country shows. I knoo the sort of gold <br>Priced in the brumy shops four an' a zac;<br>An' 'fore you git' 'em 'ome the gold's gone black.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Send I may live!' I sez. 'You got a nerve!<br>That tale's got w'iskers longer than your own.<br>A slice of cold, 'ard quod's wot you deserve<br>For springin' duds like that! Lea' me alone;<br>An' try some kindergarten with that lurk.<br>A man's a right to crack you! Aw, git work!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But 'e won't take a 'int nor 'old 'is jaw,<br>This amacher in crime with brums to sell,<br>But breasts right up to me an' starts to paw.<br>Now, likewise, that's a game I know too well:<br>Pawin' with one 'and while the other dips<br>Into yer - 'Back!' I yell, an' come to grips.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I grab 'im be the throat an' shake 'im good,<br>Ixpectin' 'is fake w'iskers to come loose.<br>'A rotten way to earn yer livli'ood!'<br>I growl . . . 'E grunts . . . 'Is face is goin' puce.<br>'You imitation crook!' I sez agen.<br>'Wot do yeh mean by swin'lin' honest men?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shake 'im 'ard once more. 'The first John 'Op<br>That comes,' I sez, 'can 'ave you for a gift!'<br>Me late idears uv thugs 'as all gone flop:<br>Me point uv view, some'ow,' 'as seemed to shift;<br>'Tain't philosophic, like it used to be,<br>Now someone's took a fly at thuggin' me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'E's gurglin' nicely - clawin' at the air.<br>'You pest!' I sez. 'You scum! You sewer rat!<br>Why can't yeh earn yer livin' on the square,<br>An' be raspectabil?' I'm gettin' that<br>Right-thinkin' I am all one virchus glow.<br>'Leg-gug-' 'e gurgles, musical. 'Leggo!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We made a pretty pitcher standin' there <br>Nocturne, as artists sez. I felt, some'ow,<br>That, underneath the yeller lamp-light's glare,<br>'Is upturned face (It's gittin' purple now)<br>Was sumpthin' painters would admire no end ....<br>Then a sharp voice be'ind me yelps, 'Young friend!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young friend,' 'e sez, su'prised, 'wot-wot's amiss?<br>Yes; my ole parson friend. I drops the crook.<br>'You are nustook, young friend,' 'e sez; 'for this<br>Is not the man for 'oo we've conic to look.'<br>Then 'e stares closer at the gaspin' gun.<br>'Why! Bless me 'eart!' 'e chirps. 'It's Daniel Dunn!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It's Mister Dunn,' 'e sez, 'from Bungaroo!<br>My farmer friend!' ('Ere was a flamin' mess!)<br>'Is this 'ere coot,' I arsts, 'well knowed to you?'<br>The parson takes another gig. 'Why, yes.<br>You're Mister Dunn?' An' Whiskers answers ''Ick!'<br>I notice then that Daniel's partly shick.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A dinkum farmer! Strike! I'm in all wrong!<br>'Sorry,' I sez. 'My fault. 'Ow could I tell?<br>I acted nervis when 'e come along.<br>But, if you're sure, it might be jist as well<br>To intrajuice us, 'coz it would appear<br>Ther's been some slight misun'erstandin' 'ere.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Snowy twinkles, an' pufforms the rite.<br>W'iskers 'as got 'is wind back with the spell)<br>''Appy to meet yeh, sir,' 'e sez, perlite.<br>'Don't mention it,' sez me. 'I 'ope you're well?'<br>'Not bad, consid'rin',' 'e remarks (an' takes<br>Me 'and) 'the narsty weather.' So we shakes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then I ixplain; an' W'iskers spills 'is tale <br>The old yarn uv the mug 'oo puts 'is trust<br>In nice new city frien's uv 'is 'oo fail<br>To keep appointments, an' 'e wakes up bust.<br>We spring a overdraft, an' leave 'im there,<br>Bristlin' with gratiehood in every 'air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Jist goes to show,' I sez to Snowy then.<br>'If I 'ad not - well, not detained yer friend,<br>'E mighter fallen in with reel rough men<br>An' ended up all narsty in the end.<br>I feel to-night, some'ow, me luck's dead in,<br>An' I could give some crook a rotten spin.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young friend,' sez Snowy, solemn, 'should we meet<br>This man we seek to-night - this feller Wegg,<br>Try to be diplermatic an' discreet;<br>Reason with 'im; no vi'lince, friend, I beg.'<br>'Wot? Vi'lince? Me?' I chirps. (I'm bublin' now)<br>'Wot do yeh know bout that? I'll kiss the cow!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357704" data-title="Nocturne de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="I'm standin' at the corner uv the Lane 
The Land called Spadgers - waiting fer 'is jills.
The night's come chilly, an' a drizzlin' rain
Falls steady where a near-by street lamp spills
A gashly yeller light on stones all wet,
An' makes the darkest ..."></div>
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