The Eighth Sin/Ballade of a Change of Abode
Romance has fled from Leicester Square
To dwell with simpler-hearted folk.
She flies in horror and despair
To seek suburban hearts of oak,
Her high-priest now is Wentworth Croke
Her ancient fanes are but a myth.
Come then (and bring your pipe to smoke)
Where she resides in Hammersmith.
The Empire is the tawdry lair
Of juggling Jew and rancid joke,
Pink legs, dress-shirted fools astare
And humour ground beneath the yoke—
Come where Romance may still invoke
Her own congenial kin and kith
Come, apt for joy or sobs that choke,
Where she resides in Hammersmith.
For she has found true lovers there
Who shudder lest her spell be broke
She caught them in her subtle snare
And gathered them beneath her cloak.
They hissed the villain when he spoke
Adored the hero large of lith—
What shining eyes when they awoke
Where she resides in Hammersmith!
This is the marrow and the pith:
Romance has fled from Leicester Square
And now resides in Hammersmith.