A Ballade of Suicide
A Ballade of Suicide is a ballade by G.K. Chesterton.
The text
<poem> 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. </poem>
External links
- The G.K.Chesterton web site: more works by G.K. Chesterton
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