Songs of a Savoyard Part 2

The organ boys They stop their noise With readiness surprising, And grinning herds Of hurdy-gurds Retire apologising!

Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong, And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at!

I've offered gold, In sums untold, To all who'd contradict me - I've said I'd pay A pound a day To any one who kicked me - I've bribed with toys Great vulgar boys To utter something spiteful, But, bless you, no!

They WILL be so Confoundedly politeful!

In short, these aggravating lads, They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads, They give me this and they give me that, And I've nothing whatever to grumble at!

Ballad: The House Of Peers

When Britain really ruled the waves - (In good Queen Bess's time) The House of Peers made no pretence To intellectual eminence, Or scholarship sublime; Yet Britain won her proudest bays In good Queen Bess's glorious days!

When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well; Yet Britain set the world ablaze In good King George's glorious days!

And while the House of Peers withholds Its legislative hand, And n.o.ble statesmen do not itch To interfere with matters which They do not understand, As bright will shine Great Britain's rays, As in King George's glorious days!

Ballad: A Merry Madrigal

Brightly dawns our wedding day; Joyous hour, we give thee greeting!

Whither, whither art thou fleeting?

Fickle moment, prithee stay!

What though mortal joys be hollow?

Pleasures come, if sorrows follow.

Though the tocsin sound, ere long, Ding dong! Ding dong!

Yet until the shadows fall Over one and over all, Sing a merry madrigal - Fal la!

Let us dry the ready tear; Though the hours are surely creeping, Little need for woeful weeping Till the sad sundown is near.

All must sip the cup of sorrow, I to-day and thou to-morrow: This the close of every song - Ding dong! Ding dong!

What though solemn shadows fall, Sooner, later, over all?

Sing a merry madrigal - Fal la!

Ballad: The Duke And The d.u.c.h.ess

[THE DUKE.]

Small t.i.tles and orders For Mayors and Recorders I get - and they're highly delighted.

M.P.s baronetted, Sham Colonels gazetted, And second-rate Aldermen knighted.

Foundation-stone laying I find very paying, It adds a large sum to my makings.

At charity dinners The best of speech-spinners, I get ten per cent on the takings!

[THE d.u.c.h.eSS.]

I present any lady Whose conduct is shady Or smacking of doubtful propriety; When Virtue would quash her I take and whitewash her And launch her in first-rate society.

I recommend acres Of clumsy dressmakers - Their fit and their finishing touches; A sum in addition They pay for permission To say that they make for the d.u.c.h.ess!

[THE DUKE.]

Those pressing prevailers, The ready-made tailors, Quote me as their great double-barrel; I allow them to do so, Though ROBINSON CRUSOE Would jib at their wearing apparel!

I sit, by selection, Upon the direction Of several Companies bubble; As soon as they're floated I'm freely bank-noted - I'm pretty well paid for my trouble!

[THE d.u.c.h.eSS.]

At middle-cla.s.s party I play at ECARTE - And I'm by no means a beginner; To one of my station The remuneration - Five guineas a night and my dinner.

I write letters blatant On medicines patent - And use any other you mustn't; And vow my complexion Derives its perfection From somebody's soap - which it doesn't.

[THE DUKE.]

We're ready as witness To any one's fitness To fill any place or preferment; We're often in waiting At junket FETING, And sometimes attend an interment.

In short, if you'd kindle The spark of a swindle, Lure simpletons into your clutches, Or hoodwink a debtor, You cannot do better Than trot out a Duke or a d.u.c.h.ess!

Ballad: Eheu Fugaces -!

The air is charged with amatory numbers - Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays.

Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers The aching memory of the old, old days?

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted; Time was when we walked ever hand in hand; A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted, None better loved than I in all the land!

Time was, when maidens of the n.o.blest station, Forsaking even military men, Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration - Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids a.s.sembled; Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear; Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled; And when I coughed all thought the end was near!

I had no care - no jealous doubts hung o'er me - For I was loved beyond all other men.

Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me - Ah me, I was a pale young curate then!

Ballad: They'll None Of 'Em Be Missed

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found, I've got a little list - I've got a little list Of social offenders who might well be underground, And who never would be missed - who never would be missed!

There's the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs - All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs - All children who are up in dates, and floor you with 'em flat - All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like THAT - And all third persons who on spoiling TETE-E-TETES insist - They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!

There's the n.i.g.g.e.r serenader, and the others of his race, And the piano organist - I've got him on the list!

And the people who eat peppermint and puff it in your face, They never would be missed - they never would be missed!

Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone, All centuries but this, and every country but his own; And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy, And who "doesn't think she waltzes, but would rather like to try"; And that FIN-DE-SIECLE anomaly, the scorching motorist - I don't think he'd be missed - I'm SURE he'd not be missed!

And that NISI PRIUS nuisance, who just now is rather rife, The Judicial humorist - I've got HIM on the list!

All funny fellows, comic men, and clowns of private life - They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!

And apologetic statesmen of the compromising kind, Such as - What-d'ye-call-him - Thing'em-Bob, and likewise - Never- mind, And 'St - 'st - 'st - and What's-his-name, and also - You-know-who - (The task of filling up the blanks I'd rather leave to YOU!) But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list, For they'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!