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I
Soho
who’s for a jig then?
I loved her eyes above all
leaven
brighter than all the stars in heaven
I loved ’em all at sixes and sevens
who’s for a jig then?
she had ways about her truly
to wreck a poor lover unduly
it was charming truly throughly
who’s for a jig then?
but I likes more than me best bib and tucker
the kiss of her blooming pucker
now that she’s dead to me for a sucker
who’s for a jig then?
I recall I recall
hugs and kisses in the hall
and that’s the best I have of it all
who’s for a jig then?
II
Paddington
o the river in the road
fantastically à la mode
behind a wall that’s five feet high
rolling on without one murmur
the flood opaque and somehow pure
through suburbs pacified
the way is wide to such a
degree
the water as yellow as a dead body
hurtles with no hope alack
of reflecting aught but mist
even though the sunup’s kissed
the cottages yellow and black
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