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Martin: A Bon Gaultier Ballad
In such scenes as these I triumphed, ere my passion's
edge was rusted,
And my cousin's cold refusal left me very much disgusted!
Since, my heart is sere and withered, and I do not care
a curse,
.Whether worse shall be the better, or the better be the
worse.
Hark! my merry comrades call me, bawling for another
jorum;
They would mock me in derision, should I thus appear
before 'em.
Womankind no more shall vex me, such at least as go
arrayed
In the most expensive satins and the newest silk
brocade.
I'll to Afric, lion-haunted, where the giant forest
yields
Rarer robes and finer tissue than are sold at Spitalfields.
Or to burst all chains of habit, flinging habit's self
aside,
I shall walk the tangled jungle in mankind's primeval
pride;
Feeding on the luscious berries and the rich cassava
root,
Lots of dates and lots of guavas, clusters of forbidden
fruit.
Never comes the trader thither, never o'er the purple
main
Sounds the oath of British commerce, or the accent of
Cockaigne.
148