Andrew Barton Paterson (Эндрю Бартон Патерсон)
The Ballad of That P.N.
The shades of night had fallen at last, When through the house a shadow passed, That once had been the Genial Dan, But now become a desperate man, At question time he waited near, And on the Premier’s startled ear A voice fell like half a brick -- ”Did ye, or did ye not, pay Crick Did ye?” By land and sea the Premier sped, But found his foe where’er he fled, The sailors swore -- with whitened lip -- That Neptune swam behind the ship: When to the stern the Premier ran, Behold, ’twas no one else but Dan, And through the roaring of the gale That clarion voice took up the tale, ”Ahot there! Answer, straight and slick! Did not the Ministry pay Crick Did they?” In railway trains he sought retreat, But soon, from underneath the seat, With blazing eye and bristling beard, His ancient enemy appeared, And like a boiling torrent ran The accents of the angry Dan -- ”Tell me, John See, and tell me quick Did not ye pay your shares to Crick Did ye?”
Andrew Barton Paterson’s other poems:
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