This thread is part of "The Rattle Bag 20" If you would like more information you can find it here: viewtopic.php?f=2&t=15198
Hello,
Something with meter was on JohnLott's list and I thought it would be a bit of fun.
8-7-8-7, alternating rhyme for ten verses. Seems like each word was thoughtfully placed. The smoother it reads the harder, we know, the more talent it took. This was anonymously written, I suppose finding where it was first published or discovers may shed some light on what was happening in public life at the time.
It is poetry "for the people". Th message is pretty clear and the narrative direct. Do you like it? Would it be on your list?
It is pleasant to read aloud. It is the metered form that is the easiest for me to produce and one of the hardest to take seriously.
Enjoy the read and let us know what you think.
by Anonymous
She Was Poor But She Was Honest
She was poor but she was honest,
Victim of a rich man's whim,
First he loved her, then he left her,
And she lost her honest name.
Then she ran away to London,
For to hide her grief and shame;
There she met another squire,
And she lost her name again.
See her riding in a carriage,
In the Park and all so gay:
All the nibs and nobby persons
Come to pass the time of day.
See the little old-world village
Where her aged parents live,
Drinking the champagne she sends them;
But they never can forgive.
In the rich man's arms she flutters,
Like a bird with broken wing:
First he loved her, then he left her,
And she hasn't got a ring.
See him in the splendid mansion,
Entertaining with the best,
While the girl that he has ruined,
Entertains a sordid guest.
See him in the House of Commons,
Making laws to put down crime,
While the victim of his passions
Trails her way through mud and slime.
Standing on the bridge at midnight,
She says: 'Farewell, blighted Love.'
There's a scream, a splash — Good Heavens!
What is she a-doing of?
Then they drag her from the river,
Water from her clothes they wrang,
For they thought that she was drownded;
But the corpse got up and sang:
'It's the same the whole world over;
It's the poor that gets the blame,
It's the rich that get the pleasure.
Isn't it a blooming shame?'
"She Was Poor But She Was Honest" by Anonymous. Public domain.
Warmly,
Suzanne





