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Poem by Frederick Locker-Lampson

A Sketch in Seven Dials

Mary in her hand has sixpence,
   Mary starts to fetch some butter,
Marys pinafore is spotless,
   Off she goes across the gutter,
Gleeful, radiant, as she thus did,
Proud to be so largely trusted.

One, two, three, small steps shes taken,
   Blissfully away shes tripping,
When good lack, and whod a thought it,
   Down goes Mary, slipping, slipping;
Daubs her clothes, the little sluther
Sixpence, too, rolls in the gutter.

Never creep back so despairing,
   Dry those eyes, my little Mary,
All of us start off in high glee,
   Many come back quite contrairy
Ive mournd sixpences in scores too,
Damagd hopes and pinafores too.

Frederick Locker-Lampson

Frederick Locker-Lampson's other poems:
  1. My Life Is A
  2. My Firstborn
  3. The Old Clerk
  4. The Pilgrims of Pall Mall
  5. St Georges, Hanover Square

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