Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/33

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NOCTAMBULE
31

Pile them on the tables;
Let us to our lairs
Underneath the gables.

Up the old Boul’ Mich’
Climb with steps erratic.
Steady… how I wish
I was in my attic!
Full am I with cheer;
In my heart the joy stirs;
Couldn’t be the beer,
Must have been the oysters.

In obscene array
Garbage cans spill over;
How I wish that they
Smelled as sweet as clover!
Charing women wait;
Cafés drop their shutters;
Rats perambulate
Up and down the gutters.

Down the darkened street
Market carts are creeping;
Horse with wary feet,
Red-faced driver sleeping.
Loads of vivid greens,
Carrots, leeks, potatoes,
Cabbages and beans,
Turnips and tomatoes.