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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365795" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ms Found In A Belfry</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stared down at Whitechapel's Streets<br>Reflected through a mirror, <br>Safe closeted in darkness with <br>The Camera Obscura, <br>From this one central vantage point<br>My eyes ranged over all<br>The sad rack of humanity, <br>Its petty rise and fall, <br>The Toffs, clad in their Toppers, and<br>The Dollymops procuring, <br>The drunkards and the thieves and rogues, <br>Beyond man's curse or curing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All types had passed me slowly by, <br>As I stood watching, praying, <br>That should the Lord declare his love<br>Those lives might be worth saving, <br>I saw but heads and shoulders from<br>Where I stood, looking down, <br>The lens was tilted from a height, <br>From Camera to the ground, <br>They passed like busy, swarming ants, <br>Unknowing that above<br>Two eyes were watching closely, each<br>And every passing move.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Good Queen Victoria, bless her soul<br>Reigned over us on high, <br>Reigned over this unwholesome den <br>Of blind iniquity, <br>The people's pain and poverty<br>Showed up on every face, <br>It brought good men to curse and drink<br>And women to disgrace, <br>And worse, the streets of London then<br>Gave out some awful mist<br>Of evil humours, deadly sins<br>The poor could not resist.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Summer came and went, and then<br>Upon that final day, <br>Foul murder was to come to haunt<br>Each woman's right of way, <br>For Mary Nicholls, prostitute, <br>A shallow, aimless drunk, <br>Was found in Bucks Row, murdered there, <br>With little argument; <br>Her throat was slashed, her face destroyed, <br>Her body ripped and torn, <br>It was like some wild animal<br>On London streets was born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A week went by, and Annie Chapman<br>Passed along my way, <br>I saw her stop some stranger here<br>And ask the time of day.<br>Then off she went to meet that painful<br>Horrid, bloody fate, <br>The long knife and the sickening plunge, <br>The silent scream, too late! <br>Before the manic razor gleamed<br>And went to work its hell, <br>Disturbed her bowels and organs, left<br>Her corpse a bloodied shell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Another week, a letter then arrived<br>At Central News, <br>Pressing home the killer's point, <br>The rabid killer's views, <br>But of remorse, there was no sign, <br>No hint of sadness there, <br>And it was signed, in scrawling pen, <br>Yours truly, 'Jack the Ripper.'<br>What panic then invaded all those<br>Alleys, yards and lanes, <br>The pubs were seen as safe, while fear<br>Coursed gutters, poured down drains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Each victim from then on had passed <br>Beneath me, once or twice, <br>I was well versed in decadence<br>Along these streets of vice, <br>I took more of an interest when<br>I saw some stranger trace<br>The footsteps of a dollymop, <br>I tried to see their face, <br>But it was getting harder as<br>The rain came beating down, <br>And often mist would swirl on through<br>The streets of London Town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As late September fell we saw <br>That poor old Lizzy Stride<br>Was razored at the throat, but strangely, <br>Not much else beside.<br>So could it be that, just this once, <br>The 'Ripper' was disturbed<br>From cutting, slashing, finishing, <br>His trademark ripping curbed? <br>So thought the police, and yet too soon<br>Within the very hour, <br>Another woman's corpse was bled<br>To prove the 'Ripper's' power.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Catherine Eddowes corpse was slashed<br>And razored, ear to ear, <br>Her blood was scattered everywhere, <br>Her kidney disappeared, <br>Though half of it was posted back<br>A little later on, <br>The letter said he'd cooked and eaten<br>All of what was gone.<br>The police were getting nowhere<br>With their methods or their search, <br>But I... I knew, and so in faith<br>I had to go to church.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd seen a face look up at me<br>And stand out from the crowd, <br>A face that picked out every victim, <br>Followed with her shroud, <br>And so I found the pew, and saw<br>The figure lightly perch, <br>And cross itself uneasily<br>In Holy Mother Church, <br>So knowing what I'd have to do, <br>And soon as soon could be, <br>I asked the Lord his pardon, that<br>He'd start forgiving me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I followed closely from then on to <br>Mary Kelly's place, <br>I thought that I'd have time to spare, <br>But found I'd lost the race.<br>I heard the screams of murder from<br>The centre of the house, <br>The doors were bolted, windows barred, <br>And no-one could I rouse, <br>But once the deed was done inside<br>A head peered out in vain, <br>I clubbed it well, to end the spell<br>Of Jack the Ripper's reign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She's hanging in the bell-tower from<br>The rope that rings the bell, <br>And when the parson pulls, it may<br>Just ring her in, to hell! <br>A nurse, whose husband thought to stray<br>For one brief taste of bliss, <br>Then brought it home to her, she said, <br>That dreadful syphilis! <br>So in revenge she murdered them, <br>The women of ill fame, <br>And blamed all men by using then<br>The 'Jack the Ripper' name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">30 September 2008</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Coincidentally, written on the 120th <br>Anniversary of the murders of Elizabeth Stride<br>and Catherine Eddowes by Jack the Ripper, <br>30 September,1888) .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</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=365795" data-title="Ms Found In A Belfry de David Lewis Paget" data-description="I stared down at Whitechapel's Streets
Reflected through a mirror, 
Safe closeted in darkness with 
The Camera Obscura, 
From this one central vantage point
My eyes ranged over all
The sad rack of humanity, 
Its petty rise and fall, 
The Toffs, cl..."></div>
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