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The Bachelors' Strike
(TO BE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1905)
Fun, I - 22nd July 1865
| 'Twas early in July, |
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In eighteen sixty-five, |
| When a tribe of males from old Marseilles |
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Declared they never would wive. |
| For they thought on the costly style |
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Of shawls and bonnets and veils, |
| And they saw with amaze the expensive ways |
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Of the damsels of old Marseilles |
| They vowed they'd marry no maid |
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Unless she'd dress her more |
| In the cheap and chaste and simple taste |
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Of two hundred years before. |
| But centuries twain before, |
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As painted pictures show, |
| All dress was dear, and the bodies, I hear, |
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Were worn extremely low. |
| But none of the men of Marseilles |
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Had histories on their shelves; |
| But, strong in the heat of their blind conceit, |
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They chuckled within themselves. |
| And there rose from old Marseilles |
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A cry from the maiden crew, |
| "Six thousand head of girls to wed, |
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And nobody comes to woo! |
| "Oh, come, ye knights of France, |
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And knights of England true, |
| And teach these loons to dance to the tunes |
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They'd have us dancing to!" |
| And three thousand British knights, |
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And as many knights of France, |
| Came down on rails to old Marseilles |
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To teach these cravens dance. |
| They smote them hip and thigh, |
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And then each warrior true |
| Embraced his prize before the eyes |
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Of the mercenary crew. |
| And having fairly done |
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The task to them assigned, |
| Each rode away, as the stories say, |
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With a maiden packed behind. |
| And the dreary, dreary tribe |
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Of cravens are still alive, |
| Though years have gone by since that July, |
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In eighteen sixty-five. |
| And none will make their beds, |
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And none will scour and wipe, |
| And no little trippers will bring out their slippers, |
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And fill their evening pipe. |
| And an awful story goes, |
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That there's a stern decree, |
| That swear as they may, to their dying day, |
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No button they e'er shall see! |
MORAL
| So fools reject a prize, |
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And, offered wealth, disdain it, |
| Because that they object to pay |
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For the caskets that contain it. |
| So fools — such fools are they, |
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They're scarcely worthy blaming — |
| Decline the care of a picture rare |
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Because it involves a framing. |
| So many a fool we find |
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So blindly wed to Mammon, |
| That the foolish flat begrudges the sprat |
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That he knows will hook a salmon. |
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Page Created
29 July, 2011