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Book: London Types
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He's called The General from the brazen craft
And dash with which he sneaks a bit of road
14 lines
Joy of the Milliner, Envy of the Line,
Star of the Parks, jack-booted, sworded, helmed,
14 lines
Far out of bounds he'd figured--in a race
Of West-End traffic pitching to his loss.
14 lines
Who says Drum-Major says a man of mould,
Shaking the meek earth with tremendous tread,
14 lines
His beat lies knee-high through a dust of story--
A dust of terror and torture, grief and crime;
14 lines
Army Reserve; a worshipper of Bobs,
With whom he stripped the smock from Candahar;
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An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust;
An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit;
14 lines
Though, if you ask her name, she says "Elise,"
Being plain Elizabeth, e'en let it pass,
14 lines
'Liza's old man's perhaps a little shady,
'Liza's old woman's prone to booze and cring;
14 lines
Take any station, pavement, circus, corner,
Where men their styles of print may call or choose,
14 lines
Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-day
Of moving landmarks and of levelling down,
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There's never a delicate nurseling of the year
But our huge London hails it, and delights
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So went our boys when Edward Sixth, the King,
Chartered Christ's Hospital, and died. And so
13 lines
The Artist muses at his ease,
Contented that his work is done,
8 lines
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