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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
A Ballad Of Suicide
The gallows in my garden, people say,

Is new and neat and adequately tall;
I tie the noose on in a knowing way

As one that knots his necktie for a ball;
But just as all the neighbours—on the wall—
Are drawing a long breath to shout "Hurray!"

The strangest whim has seized me.
.
.
.
After all
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

To-morrow is the time I get my pay—

My uncle's sword is hanging in the hall—
I see a little cloud all pink and grey—

Perhaps the rector's mother will not call— I fancy that I heard from Mr.
Gall
That mushrooms could be cooked another way—

I never read the works of Juvenal—
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

The world will have another washing-day;

The decadents decay; the pedants pall;
And H.
G.
Wells has found that children play,

And Bernard Shaw discovered that they squall,
Rationalists are growing rational—
And through thick woods one finds a stream astray

So secret that the very sky seems small—
I think I will not hang myself to-day.


ENVOI
Prince, I can hear the trumpet of Germinal,
The tumbrils toiling up the terrible way;

Even to-day your royal head may fall,
I think I will not hang myself to-day
Written by: G K Chesterton

Book: Shattered Sighs