Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3827/The Misused Talent
(A mild apostrophe to the young man next door.)
Augustus! ever prone at eve to gurgle a Melodious distych from the music-balls,Piping in summer from beneath a pergola, Piping to-day behind these party-walls,Three months ago and more, when Mars had thrust us In doubt and dread alarm and cannons' mist,I found one solace, for I mused, "Augustus Will probably enlist.
"I know not what his dreams of glory may be, I know not if his heart is full of grit,But I do know that he disturbs the baby, And, judging by his lungs, he must be fit;His is the frame, or else I've never seen one, His are the fitting years to fight and roam,He has no ties (except that pink and green one) To tether him to home.
"When he returns he'll possibly be sager; If not (for glory of his long campaign)We shall be thrilled to hear the sergeant-major Singing the good old songs he loved again;Bellona, too, has something of the witch in her; It may be he will learn more tact and graceWhen that mild tenor has been turned by Kitchener Into a throaty bass."
Thus jestingly I dreamed. And now, Caruso, You have not budged one inch upon the road;While half the lads have got their khaki trousseau, You still retain that voice and nut-like mode;Peace holds you with the tightness of a grapnel, And, still adhering to her ample hem,You enfilade us with your tuney shrapnel From 9 to 12 p.m.
So here's my ultimatum. Though it loosens The kindly bonds that neighbours ought to keep,I'll take a summons out to curb the nuisance Unless you stop it. Can I laugh or weepFor those who fling their challenge at the blighting gale, Who smile to hear the cannon's murderous croon,When you go on like a confounded nightingale Under a fat-faced moon?
The streets are darkened now that once were ringing Through all the lamp-lit hours with festal fuss,And songs are changed, and so's the time for singing, But I'd be greatly pleased to hear you, Gus,Out in the road there, watched by Anns and Maries, Op'ning your throttle to the mid-day light;Fate gave it you to prove that Tipperary's A long way off. Left-Right! Evoe.