Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/222

220 Of wondrous, ordinary things In words of every day.

To rhyme of rich and rainy nights, When like a legion leap the lights And take the town with gold; Of taverns quaint where poets dream, Of cafés gaudily agleam, And vice that’s overbold; Of crystal shimmer, silver sheen, Of soft and soothing nicotine, Of wine that’s rich and old.

Of gutters, chimney-tops and stars, Of apple-carts and motor-cars, The sordid and sublime; Of wealth and misery that meet In every great and little street, Of glory and of grime; Of all the living tide that flows– From princes down to puppet shows– I’ll make my humble rhyme.

So if you like the sort of thing Of which I also like to sing, Just give my stuff a look; And if you don’t, no harm is done–

In writing it I’ve had my fun; Good luck to you and every one– And so