Page:The songs of a sentimental bloke (1917).djvu/63

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The Siren


THE sung a song; an' I sat silent there,
Wiv bofe 'ands grippin' 'ard on to me chair;
Me 'eart, that yesterdee I thort wus broke
Wiv 'umpin' sich a 'eavy load o' care,
Come swellin' in me throat like I would choke.
I felt 'ot blushes climbin' to me 'air.


'Twas like that feelin' when the Spring wind breaves
Sad music in the sof'ly rustlin' leaves.
An' when a bloke sits down an' starts to chew
Crook thorts, wivout quite knowin' why 'e grieves
Fer things 'e's done 'e didn't ort to do—
Fair winded wiv the 'eavy sighs 'e 'eaves.


She sung a song; an' orl at once I seen
The kind o' crool an' 'eartless broot I been.
In ev'ry word I read it like a book—
The slanter game I'd played wiv my Doreen—
I 'eard it in 'er song; an' in 'er look
I seen wot made me feel fair rotten mean.

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