Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/77

 In Spadger's Lane

LE Mother Moon 'oo yanks 'er beamin' dile Acrost the sky when we've grown sick o' day, She's like some fat ole Jane 'oo loves to smile On all concerned, an' smooth our faults away; An', like a woman, tries to 'ide again The sores an' scars crool day 'as made too plain.

To all the earth she gives the soft glad-eye; She picks no fav'rits in this world o' men; She peeps in nooks, where 'appy lovers sigh, To make their joy more bonzer still; an' then, O'er Spadger's Lane she waves a podgy 'and, An' turns the scowlin' slums to Fairyland.

Aw, strike! I'm gettin' soft in my ole age! I'm growin' mushy wiv the passin' years. Me! that 'as called it weakness to ingage In sloppy thorts that coax the pearly tears. But say, me state o' mind I can't ixplain When I seen Rose lars' night in Spadger's Lane.